Consanguina
by Jess S1
Summary: Fifteen years ago, more than one tragic mistake was made. Will its undoing help or hinder the Wizarding World and it’s young hero as they enter another Dark Age?
1. Prologue: Memories & Emerald Eyes

Disclaimer: I own the plot, though I apologize if it's been done before. Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.

AN: Hi! Real AN at the end! Enjoy!

Rated: PG-13

Summary: Fifteen years ago, more than one tragic mistake was made. Will its undoing help or hinder the Wizarding World and it's young as they enter another Dark Age?

****

Consanguina

by Jess S

**__**

Prologue: Memories and Emerald Eyes

It was dark and eerily silent across the Wizarding World that night, and even more so on the Muggle street known as Privet Drive. This was a street full of people that would be the last to welcome the people of that aberrant world into their lives, although there _was _a member of that very world living amongst them now. He had been for the past fifteen years. 

Harry Potter was quite out of place in the household of number four Privet Drive. For he was certainly no ordinary boy. Unlike his relatives, who strove to be as ordinary as ordinary could be, though some might doubt if they had succeeded... 

Harry was in fact a wizard, with four years of schooling at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry supporting him. Even more peculiar than that, Harry was not even considered ordinary among his own kind. He wasn't quite a child celebrity, no, he was more then that, but just as famous within the Wizarding World, being the Boy-Who-Lived. 

Nonetheless, he did not live within the world that was his home for nearly the whole of the year. For ten years of his life, from when his aunt had found him on their doorstep to when Rubeus Hagrid, the Hogwarts Groundskeeper and Care of Magical Creatures Professor had brought him his admissions letter, making him aware of his heritage. Or, at least what everyone else knew about him. Almost everyone.

From that day forward, Harry had spent the majority of the past four years at Hogwarts, developing his magical abilities and continuing to fight against evil. Each summer, which his birthday was a part of, he would spend with his Muggle relatives, the Dursleys. 

But, for some reason, Harry felt that this summer was different... he couldn't explain why...

It hadn't been a spectacular summer thus far. He had been out of school for one week, and all the days of that week were filled with chores, while the nights haunted by memories.

Harry's fourth school year had not gone overly well. The Goblet of Fire had selected him as the second Hogwarts Champion, a scandal that few, least of all Harry himself, had been overly pleased with. After struggling through the three tasks, Harry found himself tied with the other Hogwarts Champion, Cedric Diggory. The two of them had, subsequent to some debate, decided to take the Triwizard Cup together, for Hogwarts.

Mystery and deception had come to be a part of the young wizard's life from the moment he'd entered the world of his birth.... And the Triwizard Tournament was no exception...

For what the two boys did not know, was that things were most certainly not what they seemed, in more ways than one. They had found Triwizard Cup, which they'd expected to be a triumphant end to a difficult challenge, was instead a doorway to a far more malignant trial. And the Hufflepuff Champion had lost his life the night Lord Voldemort was reborn...

After briefly dueling with the Dark Lord, Harry had managed to escape, only to find himself trapped by the wizard who had caused him to fall into Voldemort's clutches, and then, at the last possible moment, rescued by Professor Dumbledore himself.

A year full of jeopardy, indeed... 

And it was the events of that school year that now haunted the young wizard's nights.

It was unlikely that anyone who looked upon this boy would see anything but a near-fifteen-year-old boy plagued by nightmares, 'though few could imagine how dreadful those nightmares were... But then again, his aunt and uncle were not sleeping to soundly either... 

~ * ~

__

"Kill the spare..." A high, cold voice commanded, and a second voice complied.

"Avada Kedavra!"

And he could hear that high, cold voice... laughing... a sound that would terrify the bravest of beings for it was a laugh of pure evil...

Once again, a blast of green light blazed through Harry's eyelids, and again, he heard something-heavy fall to the ground beside him. He didn't have to open his eyes to know that he would undoubtedly see Cedric Diggory, lying spread eagle on the ground beside him... Dead.

And the laughing went on... 

Dead...

And on...

Dead... because he'd been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

And on...

Dead... because he had agreed to Harry's own idea that they take the cup together, which in turn brought both of them here to Voldemort's hands... but Voldemort had no use for Cedric...

And on... 

Dead... and Harry knew, it was his fault... 

And the laughter went on, growing louder... echoing inside his head...

"**No.**" A feminine voice insisted firmly, breaking through his thoughts.

Suddenly the evil laughter that had been taunting him vanished.

Harry opened his eyes, to see that he was no longer in the graveyard, nor in any place he ever remembered seeing before. This place felt safe, what he thought true home might feel like... even more so then Hogwarts... 

He looked around, seeing that he was in a large house... or perhaps it was a castle, or manor... which oddly resembled Hogwarts. The wall looked to be of the same style architecture. Persian carpets lined the finely waxed oak floors.

He looked around attempting to find the person that had ended his nightmare...

His eyes fell on a large portrait, which looked oddly familiar. 

His eyes widened as he realized where he'd seen it before... it was a rococo style painting, almost identical to one of the photographs in the album that Hagrid had given him at the end of his fourth year. However, there were a few things that Harry found odd about the painting. For one, the people within it were not moving. In the photograph, his mother and father were always waving out at him, while playing with his smiling infant self. Secondly, there was a fourth person in the painting. A young girl of about six-years-old, with long black hair and emerald green eyes, smiling out of the painting, while apparently playing with his former self just as his parents were, though it was harder to tell, as they weren't moving. 

Harry gave a start as the young girls eyes turned from his infant self to meet his own. 

"**Don't blame yourself, Harry.**"

"Who..."

~ * ~

Two different pairs of eyes of the same emerald shade snapped open in two very different places across Europe. 

The set that belonged to the young wizard in the second bedroom of number 4 Privet Drive, blinked in confusion. "...are you?" he finished.

The other pair widened in realization. "Finally..." A lilting, feminine voice breathed.

~ * ~

The dull blue eyes of a thin woman with blonde hair and an unusually long neck snapped open, widening with horror as memories of incidents that took place years past rushed back to her...

End of Prologue.

AN: Well, that's it for the Prologue! What'd you think? Please REVIEW! As I recall another author saying once, "it makes me type faster!" LOL, well, please, reviews are important to many fan fic authors, as they gage the readers reaction, and if a lot of people review, the author know they're story is liked, and will want to write more.

Warning: A friend of mine continually warns me about using original characters too much, because readers generally HATE them, but I myself usually enjoy original characters, so long as their being in the story makes sense and they themselves are interesting enough to draw attention. If you don't like original characters, then you probably don't want to read this, because while all of the gang from Harry Potter will still be in this story as the major characters, the main OC for this story is the basis of the plot. I don't mean to sound harsh, but I figured you have a right to be warned. 

To those reading "Lady Serenity" – the next chapter (23) is almost ready to be posted. It should be up at some point tonight. 

Bye! ^_^


	2. Chapter 1: Ancient Spells

Disclaimer: I own the plot, I apologize if it's been done before. Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.  
  
AN: Hi! Real AN at the end! Enjoy!

****

Consanguina 

by Jess S  
_Chapter 1: Ancient Spells_

Harry came down stairs some hours later, more then a little confused. Not only was the dream a point for wondering, but it was also nearly midday. Why hadn't Aunt Petunia awaken him? She always woke him, if only to make him do chores! 

With a slight amount of hesitation, he entered the kitchen, to find his Aunt at work, as usual. 

Upon hearing the door shut, she spun around. "O-oh! Good morning, Harry." She offered a tentative smile, "Did you sleep well?"

"Well enough..." Harry replied, frowning. What was going on? Had the Headmaster paid a visit that he wasn't aware of?

"That's good." Aunt Petunia replied, after a moment's silence, "There's some fruit in the fridge, for breakfast."

Still frowning slightly, Harry nodded, walking over to the fridge. "Thank you." He said, taking out the single, nearly overflowing plate of fruit salad, and taking it over to the table to begin eating. 

"Harry?"

He looked up, swallowing a piece of melon in the process. "Yes, Aunt Petunia?"

"Would you mind going into town with me a bit, today? ... I noticed you're needing new clothes..."

"Certainly..." the young wizard replied slowly, while at the same wondering, '_What in Merlin's name is going on?!_' deciding on finding out, he asked. "Aunt Petunia? ... Has something happened?"

"Pardon? ..." She replied turning back to him from wiping down the already spotless counter. "O-oh... well... no... Nothing really happened... I merely happened to remember something last night..."

"Remember something?" Harry blinked, "What?"

"H-Harry..." she sighed, "Do you remember anything of when you were younger...with your parents?" 

"No... Not really..." Harry replied slowly, now more curious than ever. "Why? ... Did you remember something about my Mum and Dad?"

"You could say that..." After a pause, Aunt Petunia threw down the cloth she had been wiping the counter with, "Wait here." She said, before walking into the sitting room. She came back a moment later, holding what appeared to be one of the older photo albums... one that evidently hadn't been touched in _years_. She was looking through it when she stopped next to him, seeming to find what she was looking for, she set the book on the table. "_That_ is what I remembered."

Harry looked down at the page curiously, and was surprised to see that it was a very familiar photo. It was his favorite picture of his mother and father, where they were holding him and staring into the frame, smiling. But there was something _different_ about it... something besides the fact that it obviously wasn't enchanted to move like most Wizarding photos. '_It looks just like the painting I saw in my dream last night!_' he realized with a start. "Who... who's _that?_" he asked, pointing shakily to the smiling six-year-old girl in the picture. 

"That..." his Aunt replied slowly, with what Harry was surprised to note as affection in her voice. "...is your sister."

Now, one might think to blink, gasp, shout, or scream upon such an astonishing finding as this.

Harry Potter, however, chose the other option. 

He fainted.

~ * ~

"Something wrong, Milady?" a hesitant voice inquired.

The young raven-haired woman did not turn her slightly over-bright eyes from the view of the vast estate outside the large bay window to the small creature in the doorway of her office. "No, Ollie, nothings wrong."

"You be wanting something, Milady?" the anxious house-elf inquired. 

"No, than– Yes, actually. Yes, I do. Wait here a moment, please." She replied, walking over to her desk. 

"Yes, Milady."

The young lady smiled, shaking her head as she wrote a short note informing her commander that she would be taking a leave of absence for the summer. She shook her head, '_Well, she wanted me to take a vacation..._' Signing the note, she rolled the parchment up and walked over to the doorway, handing it to the small creatures. "Please take this to Amelia Bones, at the Ministry. And make an appropriate copy for the Minister." 

"Yes, Milady!" the house elf replied, vanishing in a flash of pale blue light. 

And then, with a small smile, the young witch Disapparated.

~ * ~

*Knock* *Knock* *Knock*

Mrs. Dursley looked up from cleaning the coffee table, she sighed, rising to her feet and leaving the cleaning rag behind as she walked over to the door, sparing her nephew – who was still unconscious on the couch – a concerned glance.

Coming to the door, she forced a smile before opening it. "Good Mor...."

The young woman smiled warmly. "Good morning, Aunt Petunia... It's been a long time."

"Y-yes... it h-has...." Mrs. Dursley replied, taking a step back. "Won't you come in?"

"Thank you." She replied, stepping inside, and watching as her aunt closed the door behind her. "Is Harry here?"

"Y-yes, he is." Mrs. Dursley nodded toward the living room.

With a smile, the witch walked into the living room, her aunt trailing behind her. She blinked in surprise upon seeing the young wizard on the couch. "What happened?"

"He... fainted."

"Fainted? Why?"

"When I... revealed who you were... it was quite a shock to him..."

"Oh... I see..." she shook her head.

"Would you care for some tea?"

"Please."

A short time later, the pair sat on opposite ends of the coffee table, sipping herbal tea from plain mugs, occasionally glancing at the boy on the couch.

"So... how are you?" Aunt Petunia asked, trying to make conversation with a person she had not seen for in years, and one who had only been a child then, now a full grown woman.

"Quite well, thank you." Vivian replied neutrally. "And you?"

"Well enough, thank you."

"And how are Uncle Vernon and Cousin Dudley?"

"They're... fine..." 

Vivian smiled, "Is something on your mind, Aunt Petunia? I realize that this must all seem rather strange..."

"Well, yes... where have you been the past fifteen years? And... Why did I..."

"Not remember my very existence until last night?" 

"Y-yes..."

Vivian shook her head, "It's rather complicated, but you do deserve to hear the truth... I assume you know of Harry's history?" 

"N-not really... some..."

"_Really?_" Vivian raised an eyebrow in elegant skepticism. "I would have thought Professor Dumbledore would have told you something... Well, I suppose I'll have to summarize that for you to... A moment though, Harry should probably hear this as well."

Aunt Petunia nodded in agreement, only blinking in surprise when a wand suddenly appeared in her niece's hand.

Smiling slightly, the witch pointed her wand at her little brother, "_Ennervate._"

Harry woke immediately, eyes widening slightly as he saw a wand pointed directly at him.

"Hello, Harry." Vivian smiled, slipping her wand back into her sleeve so quickly that one might doubt it had ever been removed from the holder on her lower arm.

"Who are you?" Harry demanded, slightly surprised at the good humor and warmth he saw in the witch's disturbingly familiar eyes...

Vivian raised an eyebrow, "I think you already know that, Harry, if you're willing to accept it."

"Accept what?" the young Gryffindor demanded.

"Harry...?"

Harry turned to meet his aunt's nervous sky blue eyes. "Yes, Aunt Petunia?" Then, he blinked as he realized the anomaly of the situation.... Here he was, the one angry about the fact that one of _his_ kind being in the house, while it didn't seem to bother his aunt at all! In fact, she almost seemed... **_happy_** about it... if a little nervous... "Wait... What's going on?"

"Harry, this is your sister, Vivian."

Harry stared at both of them, before blinking and shaking his head, a confused expression crossing his face. "B-but... I don't _have_ a sister..."

Vivian sighed, "Perhaps I should begin my explanation of why I haven't been around, then? It should clear a few things up."

"Please do." Aunt Petunia replied.

Harry nodded slowly, eyeing her wearily. 

"Aunt Petunia has informed me that she needs some of the background information that I'm sure you are already quite familiar with Harry, so please, bear with me..." Vivian smiled slightly before continuing. "Fifteen years ago a dark wizard calling himself Lord Voldemort began trying to take over the Wizarding World, while annihilating as many Muggles as was possible in the process... Those are remembered as very dark times... mainly because no one knew whom to trust, because Voldemort was slowly bringing many over to his side. Some went to his side willingly, either from greed or simply out of desire to be on the winning side... Others were forced over, by threat of death or harm to their families, or the Imperius Curse...." Seeing her aunt's lack of comprehension, she explained, "The Imperius Curse is one of the three Unforgivable Curses. It causes the victim to be completely under the command of the spell's caster, they have to do whatever the caster wishes, there are few who can resist it, very few..." She sighed. "At the same time, it wasn't only Muggle-borns that were in danger... Purebloods were threatened as well. Anyone of high standing in the Wizarding World who _might_ want join the Dark Lords forces, let alone those who already _had_, usually ended up dead. Almost all of the people who fought against him did as well..." Here, she offered a weary smile, "With me so far?"

Both nodded.

"Good," she continued. "As the forces of the light became more and more desperate, the Order of the Phoenix, originally founded by Merlin himself, was started once again by Professor Dumbledore... Now, while they wanted to save the Wizarding World, the members of the Order needed to protect themselves as well. So one of the members came up with a theory. They could hide the members' families, what they cared the most about, by casting a spell that would make Voldemort's forces quite literally forget about them."

"But," Harry interrupted, "I thought the Memory Charm had to be performed directly."

Vivian nodded, "It does, but this was not the Memory Charm we know of. It was a form of Ancient Magic, which a few members of the Order had been studying, in hopes of finding Voldemort's downfall... Now, many of the members of the Order were skeptical towards this method. It was Ancient Magic after all, which most people consider unpredictable... Nonetheless, they agreed to a test run. As it happens, the Potter family was of _very_ high standing in the Wizarding World, and it was one of the few families that was openly associated with the Order of the Phoenix, and therefore one of Voldemort's primary targets. So, mother and father agreed to the trial. Precautions were taken, of course. The Order placed an incredible number of wards around the estate, and on it. Then, mother and father moved out to the town house, taking you," she nodded to Harry, "with them. They knew that the estate was one of the things that the spell would be concealing, and they didn't want to risk it harming you..."

After a moments silence, Harry asked, "What happened?"

"I can't say I know precisely... I can only tell you what my tutors told me and the theory's we've come up with over the years..." Vivian sighed, "The most logical explanation is that the Order lost control of the spell... and it's the only thing that explains the results... _No one_ outside of the estate remembered the estate or those on it, or anything connected to it... Mother and Father thought that the townhouse on Godric's Hollow was their actual home... And they forgot all about me..." A single tear slipped down her pale cheek.

Aunt Petunia rose to her feet and after a moment's hesitation walked over and embraced her melancholy niece. "It wasn't something they wanted to happen, love. I know for a fact that they loved you very much. Never doubt that..."

Vivian nodded, bring a hand up and wiping away any other tears before they could fall. "I know..." she glanced over at her brother, offering him a slightly saddened smile while her aunt returned to the chair across from her.

Harry was staring at her in shock. He didn't have any trouble believing her, everything she said made too much sense and felt too right for it to be a lie... What he had trouble believing was that a member of his immediate family was sitting in the Dursley's living room... Being comforted by his aunt, no less. He shook his head, "But... Why do we remember now?"

Vivian smiled slightly. "That's my doing, I'm afraid... You see, once they realized what had happened, my tutors on the estate began looking for ways to fix it. A few years ago, we finally found a way to do so. We put spells in place that began to wear away at the spell... or would have done so... The final requirement on them was the someone had to at least start recognizing it... So it began the day Hagrid delivered you your admission letter, Harry."

"What?" Harry blinked, "What'd you mean?"

"When you realized that you were a wizard, you were one step closer to me... Then, in your third year, when you started hearing Mother and Father's last moments, because of the Dementors... And when you met the Marauders..."

"Well why didn't I remember you last summer?" Harry inquired.

Vivian shook her head, "It wasn't enough."

"Then what was?" the wizard demanded.

"Unfortunately," his sister sighed, "it was the Tri-Wizard Tournament, and it's resulting events that managed to break most of the spell..."

"Why?"

"Three schools participate in the Tri-Wizard Tournament, can you name them?"

"Of course," Harry nodded, "Hogwarts, Drumstrang, and Beauxbatons."

"Right," Vivian nodded, "The first reason was because you were meeting people from Beauxbatons, some of whom, knew me."

Harry blinked, "What?"

"You see," Vivian sighed, "I never received an admittance letter to Hogwarts, because of the spell, my name will undoubtedly appear on the admissions list for several years past when the whole of the spell finally wears out and the Wizarding World remembers my existence.... Therefore, instead of going to Hogwarts - which the spell simply would not allow - I went to Beauxbatons under the name of Vivien Potier. That is technically French for Vivian Potter, but because of my fluency in French – and a few well-placed charms from my tutors, no doubt – no one ever made the connection."

"So because you went to Beauxbatons, my meeting students from there helped break the spell?"

"Partially," Vivian nodded, "Although it wasn't really the students, though they undoubtedly helped... but Madame Maxime is actually the only person you met that actually knew me as a student... And Fleur _was_ a student of mine.... Then of course Voldemort was brought back, with some of Mother's magic protecting him, which did further damage to the spells... And now Voldemort can sense the spell, he knows that he's forgetting something... As soon as _he_ remembers, the entire Wizarding World will."

"Oh...."

"Umm... pardon me..." Mrs. Dursley bit her lip from her chair.

"Yes, Aunt Petunia?" Vivian asked, turning to her.

"What did the spell do to me?"

Vivian sighed once again, "Well, for one, it made you forget me, and just like with Mother and Father, who it adjusted to living without the manor, it adjusted you to your life as well, a life where I didn't exist. Therefore the happy times you had with my parents and I didn't exist either.... You see, you had met Uncle Vernon two years earlier, and stopped contacting us because he didn't want to have anything to do with us. Then when the spell hit you, you forgot that you weren't just pretending to dislike and distrust the Wizarding World, you actually though that was your own view on the matter."

"Y-yes," Aunt Petunia sniffed, a tear slipping down her cheek, "I remember now..." she sighed, shaking her head, "It's funny really..."

"What is?" Harry asked curiously, still not used to, but unquestionably preferring his aunt like this.

"The timing... I was actually considering leaving Vernon at the time, because I missed you all and I wanted to meet you, Harry." She shook her head, "Had it been cast a week later, everything could have been so different..."

~ * ~

The Hogwarts Professors were seated in the Headmasters office. Snape sat in an enervated silence. McGonagall was reading from the Daily Prophet, a look of disgust on her face. Trelawney was babbling about some prophecy of another. Flitwick and Hooch were discussing the last Quidditch match, while Sprout was reading from a book of garden remedies. They quieted down as the Headmaster himself entered.

Dumbledore smiled, "Well, it seems–"

Suddenly an orb on his desk released a burst of orange light.

They all turned to stare at it.

"What was that?" Snape inquired. 

Dumbledore walked over to the desk, picking up the still orange orb, and frowning.

"Albus..." Professor McGonagall's eyes were wide. "Isn't that...?"

Dumbledore nodded, before turning his attention to the other – now curious – Professors. "This, is a ward auditor, set to watch over the wards I have placed on Mr. Potter's summer residence. Thankfully, since it is not red, we can assume Mr. Potter is in no immediate danger, but there is an unknown member of our world on the Dursley property..." he sighed, "For sanity's sake I shall go see who it is, if only to guarantee that the boy is safe..."

"I'll go with you, Albus." Professor McGonagall said, rising to her feet. "He is in Gryffindor, after all, and I'll worry myself to death sitting here."

"I will come too, sir." Madam Hooch said, also rising.

"Oh for Merlin's sake, why don't we all just go?" Snape snapped, "As it appears you all _want_ to."

~ * ~

Vivian looked up, and blinked, "Oh dear..."

"What is it?" Harry asked, looking to his sister in concern. 

"It seems I've overstayed my welcome." 

"Oh, no!" Aunt Petunia gasped. "Please, you must stay at least a bit longer!"

"I would love to," Vivian sighed, "but I'm afraid you're going to have company rather soon... And I'm afraid that as long as the spell holds on them, I can't possibly explain why I am here."

"I don't understand," Aunt Petunia shook her head, "Who's coming?"

"Harry's teachers," the witch replied.

"Oh, that's right," Harry gasped, "I'm sorry, I'd forgotten." Turning to his aunt, he explained, "The Headmaster placed a bunch of protection wards on Privet Drive, so that Voldemort and his followers couldn't attack me here."

"Therefore, I must go." Vivian murmured, rising to her feet.

"Then we're going with you." Aunt Petunia replied, also rising.

"_What?_" Both Potters demanded.

"Harry would be better off with you anyhow, and I haven't seen you in years." Petunia murmured, meeting her niece's emerald eyes. "Plus," she sighed, "I can't stay here any more, it doesn't feel right... I would have left Vernon years ago if that spell hadn't made me forget I was intending too."

"But what about Dudley?" Harry asked.

Petunia shook her head, "He's his father son, I tried, but... He'd be better off with Vernon anyhow." She looked at her niece, "Please?"

Harry also met his sister's eyes, his own as hopeful as his aunts, if not more so.

Vivian sighed, "Very well, we have a small amount of time, do either of you have anything you want to take with you?"

Both nodded.

"My school stuff is in the cupboard under the stairs, and my owls up in my room." Harry replied, "I'll go get her, but the cupboard's locked, and–"

"I'll deal with that." Vivian interrupted, waving him off. She turned to her aunt as her brother ran upstairs, "Aunt Petunia?"

The blonde nodded, "I'll be back in a moment." She hurried up the stairs. 

Vivian went to the cupboard under the stairs, and pointed her wand at it. "**_Alohomora_**."

Instantly, the door burst open, and she muttered something under her breath and waved her wand at the contents inside, which promptly shrunk and flew to her out stretched left hand. She dropped them in a pocket of her robe.

A moment later, Harry and Aunt Petunia came down, Harry carrying Hedwig and a few photo albums, their aunt struggling with a large suitcase.

Vivian waved her wand, muttering the same incantation once again, and the suitcase and photo albums flew to her left hand, shrinking along the way.

Harry and Petunia both blinked.

After a moment Petunia grinned slightly, "Handy, that."

Vivian nodded, "Ready to go?"

Both nodded.

"How are we going to leave without running into the Professors?" Harry asked.

Vivian smiled slightly, "We're going to use their own spells against them," she replied, "Dumbledore will undoubtedly lift the wards against Apparition so that he and the Professors can arrive here as quickly as is possibly. We can then simply leave by Apparating."

"But," Harry shook his head, "I don't know _how_ to Apparate, and I thought it wasn't a good idea to be Apparated by another witch or wizard...."

"It usually isn't," Vivian shrugged, "But I happen to be very good at it. All I need you to do is trust me. Can you do that?"

Aunt Petunia nodded immediately. After a moment's hesitation, Harry did the same.

"Alright then," Vivian smiled, "Come here, please."

They quickly obliged, and the witch continued.

"Now, Harry, just to make this a little easier, I want you to hold on to your owl's cage, very tightly, and hold on to Aunt Petunia's hand. Aunt Petunia, you hold onto Harry's hand and onto my left hand."

Both immediately did so, and waited for something to happen.

Harry suddenly remembered something, "Umm... Vivian?"

"Yes?"

"I think I should warn you, I don't react well to Floo Powder and I don't like Portkey's very much either." He told her nervously.

She smiled, "Don't worry, Apparating isn't anything like either of those, the only thing they have in common is that they're means of travel."

Harry returned a relieved smile.

As an after thought, she added, "And I have to agree, Flooing is _horrible_, isn't it?"

Harry nodded.

Suddenly, Vivian blinked.

And they were gone.

~ * ~

"Albus, shouldn't the Ministry workers be here, too?" Professor McGonagall asked, "I mean, didn't the Minister have the Aurors put some of their detectors and wards up around here?"

"To my knowledge, yes, he did." Dumbledore replied, as he and the other Professors hurried up the walkway of number 4 Privet Drive. "I'll have to ask him." Reaching the door, he knocked quickly. Upon receiving no response after the second knock, he pointed his wand at the door, "**_Alohomora_**," and the door immediately burst open.

The Professors hurried inside, Hagrid closing the door behind them.

After a rapid search, it became obvious that it was quite empty. 

The teachers gathered in the Dursley's living room, not sparing a glance for the empty mugs on the coffee table.

"Headmaster!" 

They followed Professor Flitwick's call into the hallway, to find him standing by the kitchen door, his wand pointed at the floor.

"Whoever they were, they Apparated out from here." He shook his head, "The must be very good, sir. Not only did they know when the Orders' wards were down – you just lowered them a few moments ago, after all – but they took two people with them... judging from these signatures. They're powerful, and Mr. Potter was one of the people to go with them... the other was a Muggle."

"But," McGonagall shook her head, "I thought you had to trust the person transporting you in order for them to Apparate with you correctly?"

"Not necessarily," Snape murmured, "Some are magically strong enough and adapt enough with that particular charm to perform it without the consent of the extra passenger, or in this case, passengers."

Flitwick nodded, "That is correct."

Dumbledore sighed, "Well, it seems we'll have to be talking to the Ministry sooner rather than later... Severus, do you know if...?"

"To my knowledge," Snape replied, "This is not the Dark Lord's work, but I can't be sure."

"Why not?" Hooch demanded, "You _are_ a member of his inner circle!"

Snape smiled coldly, "A member of the inner circle, yes, but not the _trusted_ inner circle." Raising an eyebrow, he murmured, "Now, perhaps we should inform the Ministry that _the **famous**_ Harry Potter has gone missing?"

  
  


**__**

End of Chapter 1.

AN: Well, that's it for Chapter 1! What'd you think? I'd like to thank Moonlight Trickster and Evil Bunny of Doom for reviewing, and for your complements. I'm sorry for the wait. And no, this is not another SM/HP crossover, sorry – I have more of those on the way, – but this is just and Harry Potter AU. Please REVIEW!

****

Translations:

Consanguina - related by blood (Latin)

****

Bye! ^_^

~ _Jess S_


	3. Chapter 2: Mystery & Magic

Disclaimer: I own the plot, I apologize if it's been done before. Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.  
  
AN: Hi! Real AN at the end! Enjoy!

****

Consanguina 

by Jess S  
  
_Chapter 2: Mystery and Magic_

Ron Wesley sighed. The summer thus far had been rather dull... or, at least, as dull as it could be living in the Burrow... Regardless of all that, he was _bored!_ 'Course, he didn't want his mother to hear of this boredom – she'd find something for him to do, and he didn't want to de-gnome the garden again _or_ start his homework!

Then, an idea struck him, making him feel like an idiot for not thinking of it sooner. Why not write to Harry? After all, as bad as his summer had been thus far, he could scarcely imagine what Harry's was like. He was, of course, still a bit peeved that Dumbledore had insisted on Harry spending the majority of his summer with the Dursleys...

Sighing once again, Ron got to his feet, and ran downstairs to the kitchen. "Mum!" he called, "may I borrow Errol? I want to write to Harry!"

"I don't see why not..." the red-haired witch replied, "just wait 'til after luncheon, your father's home early to help you brothers settle in. He may need him for work."

Apparently during the Wizarding Cup, both Bill and Charlie had made plans to come home for a part of the summer, and spend time with the family (undoubtedly at their mother's insistence...).

"Yes, Mum." He muttered, then perked up as he heard a *SCHWUMPH* from the fireplace. 

~ * ~

Harry and his aunt looked around the room they had just arrived in, his eyes wide in awe.

Vivian smiled, "Welcome to the Potter Manor."

Both turned to stare at the witch.

"The P-Potter Manor?" Harry repeated, "_This...?_"

"This Manor has been in the Potter family for several generations." Vivian replied calmly, though one could see a distinct spark of humor in her eyes. "I have to check on something at the Ministry, Ollie will serve you tea, give you a tour, or show you to your rooms, whichever you choose. If you need anything, call her or one of the other house elves, although she'll probably be there before you can call her. I should be back in time for supper." And with that, she disappeared once again. 

~ * ~

It was a short time after noon when all of the Weasley's were seated around the dining room table, passing various food items around as endless chatter engulfed the room.

Ron sighed (again), he was _still_ bored! A tapping noise called his attention to the window, to see an unfamiliar barn owl balancing on the outside edge of the sill. Rising to his feet, he quickly went over to the window. He opened it, allowing the bird to hop into the room before accepting the delivery, which turned out to be a special edition of the Daily Prophet, the kind that was issued separately when something the Prophet's editors thought was important came up. After pouring some water into the dish by the perch the owl balanced on, and tearing up a piece of bread, he headed back to his seat.

Curious, he unrolled it and read the headline of the single article, which caused his eyes to widen and his face to pale, making his freckles stand out more than they usually did. 

"Ron?" a voice called above the noise in the room, and his mother rose to her feet, watching him anxiously, "is something the matter, dear?"

He walked over to her and offered the article, which quickly summoned a response not unlike his own.

"Dear?" by this time, all of the Weasley's had noticed their kin's disturbed state, and Mr. Weasley reached over to his wife, "What is it?"

She placed the article on the table, and a shocked silence ensued.

**__**

HARRY POTTER KIDNAPPED?

By Rita Skeeter

Members of the Daily Prophet discovered a short time ago that Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, has recently been established as missing. It was late this morning of Sunday, the 10th of July, when an unknown Wizarding person was detected in the vicinity of the young wizard's home. It was detected by the auditor that monitored the wards set in place by the Hogwarts Professors with the assistance of several members of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. All of the Professors were at that time in the Headmaster's office, and wasted no time in hurrying down to Hogsmeade to Apparate to the young hero's summer residence. The wards against Apparating onto that street were of course removed for that short span of time to allow the Professor's a swift arrival. Unfortunately, it appears that the lowering of the wards also allowed the reason for the Professor's haste coming a swift escape, taking young Harry and his aunt with them, for upon arrival they could find no trace of the young Wizard or of his Muggle aunt, Mrs. Petunia E. Dursley.

The Ministry was immediately contacted and the officials who came confirmed that the mysterious kidnappers trail was untraceable. On another note, they also found Mr. Dursley, our young hero's Muggle uncle and his cousin, Dudley, "very disagreeable and uncooperative", as one said was putting it all too mildly.

One might wonder if this was the work of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, who the Hogwarts Headmaster insists has risen again, and who young Mr. Potter himself was the one to first claim this statement. Minister Fudge however, remains adamant that as the Dark Lord has not returned, this could not be the case. "It was no doubt Black who was responsible for the boys disappearance," the Minister replied to this reporters inquiry, "and we are doing everything we can to recover young Harry as soon as possible..."

A search has been instigated, with Aurors Arabella Figg and Alastor Moody coming out of retirement for the assignment, assisted by Auror protégé Vivien L. Potier. It is requested that anyone with any knowledge as to young Mr. Potter's whereabouts please inform the Ministry by owling one of the three Aurors in charge of the case, and the Minister asks that "we all pray that young Harry be found safe, and soon."

"H-Harry's missing?" Ginny broke the silence, looking back and forth between her parents, eyes wide.

"It would appear that way..." Mr. Weasley sighed, rising to his feet. "I suppose I could go into the Ministry now and try to talk to Alastor, but he's probably already swamped because of this."

"Probably," his second eldest agreed, nodding, "but I don't think that's really necessary. Why don't we just go to Hogwarts? The Aurors will have to stop by to check the monitor anyway. I could ask Vivian, she'll probably know everything that's going on anyway. She would even if she wasn't assigned to the case!"

"Vivien Potier?" Bill asked, turning to his younger brother, "you know her?"

The other Weasleys blinked, and after a moment Mrs. Weasley inquired, "The Auror that was assigned to the case with Alastor and Arabella?"

"Yeah," Charlie replied, nodding to both questions. "I met her in Romania, she was working on an international case, chasing after some dark wizard." He grinned slightly, as if remembering, "Bloody brilliant fighter, too, I saw her take him out!"

Bill nodded in agreement, "Yeah," and upon seeing the inquiring looks from the other redheads continued, "I met her in Cairo, she was investigating that Ptolemy case a few years ago, remember?"

"The old ambassador who was murdered in the tombs?" Fred asked.

"Right," Bill nodded, again, "Of course, you know, he was _technically_ murdered... but his assailant died a couple centuries ago! Vivien was the one who solved it."

"Why didn't they tell the press that it was solved then?" Ginny asked, looking confused, "and why would someone who dies hundreds of years ago want to kill Mr. Ptolemy?"

Bill laughed, "They were covering it up, they only told the press that the case was unsolvable because it didn't look good that one of they're most respected retired officials was idiotic enough to actually walk right into some old chamber that was previously hidden. Something caused it to open and the fool walked in, and was blasted by some ancient form of the Cruciatus Curse that was placed as a ward around the chamber. It gave him a heart attack and blasted him back out into the corridor. That's why it looked like he was tortured to death and why no one knew that he was actually killed by that room."

"How in Merlin's name did she figure that out?" George asked.

Then Percy cut in, frowning. "And how do you know all about it?! I thought the files were closed and everything was kept top secret by the Ministry!"

"It was," the older wizard shrugged, "but I was there when she solved it. She said it doesn't really matter, and that the only reason the files were closed was for Fudge to save face, so as long as I wasn't planning on telling the world about it there wasn't any need for Obliviation."

"Why were you at a homicide scene?!" his mother demanded after a moments silence.

Bill shrugged once again, "She came into Gringotts asking for someone who could help her with some of the hieroglyphs, and they said I was the best they had." He shook his head, "It was strange, but I remember that they were incredibly nice to her, as goblins go... Anyway, I was explaining some of the ruins to her in the chamber where the body was found, and she wanted to know what was on the wall the body had been facing. There were some ruins I didn't recognize on that wall, so we were trying out different analysis potions to see what they meant. One of them opened the door," he shook his head again, "that's how I know she's a good fighter. Her wand was in her hand and she'd cast some shield that blocked all of the chambers protections before I even realized what was happening!"

"How old is she?" Ginny asked, still pale, but interested nonetheless.

"Early twenties, I think." Bill offered, glancing at his brother for confirmation, "I met her a few years ago, it was when I first started working at Gringotts, she said she was in her late teens then."

Charlie nodded, "I met her last year. Another Auror came from the Ministry to yell at her for taking the case instead of a vacation. Then she made her go out to dinner for her birthday." He shook his head, "she can be pretty intimidating most of the time, but she's actually very nice and easy-going when she feels she can relax."

"Wait," Bill blinked, "You went with them?"

"Yeah," Charlie grinned, "Her friend – Ria, I think it was – invited a bunch of us along."

"Is she pretty?" Ron asked.

"Yes." His oldest brothers answered immediately.

"I think we're getting a little off the subject," Mrs. Weasley sighed, then glanced at her two eldest, "Do you really think she'll tell us anything?"

Both shrugged.

"It's worth a try." Bill offered. 

~ * ~

Dumbledore offered a small smile upon seeing the familiar, though presently anxious, face in the flames. "Why hello, Arthur. I assume you've heard the news?"

"Yes," Mr. Weasley sighed, "May we come through?"

"Of course." The Headmaster stepped back and several bursts of green flame later all nine Weasleys stood in his office, concern evident on their freckled features.

"Professor, sir," Ron asked, stepping forward, "Have they–"

"I am afraid that little progress has been made thus far." Dumbledore sighed, "We've had little to go on... Arabella contacted me a short time ago, to confirm that the Apparation path was indeed untraceable and that she the others would be arriving shortly."

"Albus?" a rhythmic, feminine voice came from the fire.

"And it appears that they are ready now." With a slight smile, Dumbledore turned to the fire, "Yes, you may come through."

Green flames erupted from the fireplace, and a gray-haired witch stepped through, followed closely by Mad-Eye Moody.

"Alastor, Arabella," Dumbledore nodded to both of them, "welcome." Then he frowned, "But where is Mademoiselle Potier?"

Figg shook her head, smiling ruefully, "She should be here shortly, she volunteered to update the Minister on the current situation. Which I am quite glad for," she sighed, shaking her head, "I swear that man becomes more insufferable with each passing day!"

Professor McGonagall, who had entered the office moments before with the other teachers, snorted, "That is entirely probable."

"It is a wonder that he can control any part of the Ministry at all." Snape murmured in agreement, dislike barely concealed on his face, and quite evident in his tone.

"Most people won't go against the Aurors," Percy offered, nodding to Figg and Moody, "And they don't seem overly disturbed as a whole."

Figg snorted, "He has no control over the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, he doesn't deal with us very often, of interfere with our work. If he did, there would have been a coup d'etat some time ago, particularly after the tournament!" she shook her head. "Most, if not all of the Department is controlled and run by the lower ranking officials... he may try and take part in this investigation, Merlin knows he was interested in Blacks case, which may be one of the reasons he hasn't been caught yet." She grinned, "We don't like interference from imbeciles like him, many of the Aurors would be careful not to catch him, if only to spite Fudge."

"But that makes no sense!" Percy protested, "Minister Fudge was elected by an overwhelming majority!"

This time, it was Moody who snorted, "Ever met his competition?"

Figg shook her head, "We only hope he'll stay out of this case. He almost always try's to take part in anything political." She grinned again, "Which is why Potier went to chat with him instead of owling him. She holds a rather influential position in the Ministry, being as she works for several departments and is an important contact with the French Ministry. Fudge usually steps lightly around her."

The roar emitted from the fireplace as another blast of green flame appeared interrupted the conversation, while at the same time overriding the younger Weasley's snickering.

A moment later, a tall witch in Ministry robes with long black hair and stunning green eyes stood in front of the now normal flames.

She greeted them in a lilting, feminine voice with a light French accent, "Good morning, I do apologize for my tardiness." She raised an eyebrow. "Did I interrupt anything?"

"No, not at all." Professor Dumbledore smiled, "Mademoiselle Potier, I presume?"

Vivian nodded, "Oui, but just Vivien, please." She smiled, bowing slightly.

"Very well, Vivien," Dumbledore smiled, "I am Professor Albus Dumbledore, Hogwarts current Headmaster." He nodded to Professor McGonagall, "This is Professor Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress, Head of Gryffindor House and Transfiguration Professor. This," he continued, gesturing to each Professor in turn, "is Professor Severus Snape, Head of Slytherin House and Potions Master... Filius Flitwick, Head of Ravenclaw House and Charms teacher. Pomona Sprout, Head of Hufflepuff House and Herbology Professor. Professor Sinistra, of Astronomy... Professor Vector, Arithmancy... Madam Hooch, our Quidditch referee and flying instructor." Dumbledore looked around, "It appears that our Divination Professor, Sibyll Trelawney, is not present. And I'm sure you already know of our school's predicament with Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, Alastor was last years teacher."

Vivian nodded to each of them in turn, a slight smile gracing her lovely features.

She received nods from all of the teachers, smiles from Flitwick and Sprout, and a; "How do you do?" from McGonagall.

After that, Mr. Weasley stepped forward, and offered his hand, "Arthur Weasley."

A thoughtful look crossed Vivian's face as she shook his hand. "You work with Perkins in Misuse of Magical Artifacts, yes?"

Mr. Weasley nodded, looking slightly surprised.

"Pleased to meet you." Vivian smiled before turning toward the rest of the Weasleys.

Mrs. Weasley stepped forward, smiling. "Molly Weasley."

Vivian shook her hand as well, "A pleasure."

Bill stepped forward after his mother, "You probably don't remember, but–"

"Bill, isn't it?" Vivian asked, "From Cairo?"

"Yes!" Bill replied, looking rather shocked.

Vivian smile once again, "I rarely forget people," She added, before turning toward his younger brother, offering a hand, "And you're Charlie, right? How are things in Romania? Did you ever catch that Longhorn?"

"It's alright," he replied, shaking her hand, "and yeah, we caught it right outside of Sibiu."

"That's good to hear, the Romanian Minister must've been grateful." She smiled, then turned to the younger siblings. "And I don't believe I've had the pleasure of meeting the rest of you."

The twins were faster then Percy, "Fred and George Weasley," they said in unison.

"Nice to meet you," Vivian nodded, with a slightly bemused smile. She looked thoughtful for a moment before inquiring, "Founders of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, right?"

The twins looked just as shocked as their older brothers had been, if not more so. "Y-yeah... Why? Did you order some?"

Vivian nodded, clearly amused, "Yes, my colleagues and I have found many of your inventions very helpful for undercover assignments."

All of the Weasleys blinked at this, truly astonished.

Without waiting for a response, Vivian turned to Percy, raising an inquiring eyebrow.

After a moment, Percy gave a start, then introduced himself. "Percy Weasley, Department of–"

"International Cooperation? You were Mr. Crouch's assistant, right?"

"Y-yes." Percy nodded, looking slightly struck. In the weeks since Crouch's son's treachery and his former boss's death, the second youngest of the Weasley brothers had found that people now seemed to look down on any connection to the late wizard.

"So you decided to stay in the same department? Admirable," Vivian offered with a slight smile, "few have that much dedication, the Ministry needs more of it."

Percy blinked, "T-thank you..."

Vivian nodded once again, smiling as she turned to Ginny, "And you must be Virginia Weasley, right? Or do you prefer Ginny?"

"Ginny, please." Ginny replied softly, returning the older witch's smile.

Vivian offered a hand to her, shaking the younger girl's smaller hand. "Pleased to meet you, Ginny." She then turned to Ron. "And you are Ron Weasley?"

Ron nodded, shaking the offered hand lightly. 

"You are one of Mr. Potter's roommates, and friends?"

Ron nodded again. "Yeah, we've been best friends since the beginning of first year."

Vivian nodded, "The news must have struck you hard then, especially considering how Skeeter presented it," she shook her head, her sharp emerald gaze not leaving Ron's face, "Do you have any notion as to where Mr. Potter may have gone voluntarily?"

"The Weasley's arrived only moments ago, Mademoiselle, they know nothing more than what Miss Skeeter's article told them."

The Auror nodded, turning back to the others with a smile, "Of course."

"Forgive me, Miss Pot–"

"Vivien." She interrupted, seating herself in one of the vacant chairs.

"Vivien," Professor McGonagall, "but, you believe Mr. Potter left voluntarily? That he wasn't kidnapped?"

"It's always a possibility," Vivian shrugged, "and the evidence shows little to the contrary."

"There isn't any real evidence." Mrs. Figg pointed out.

"Precisely." Vivian nodded, "He may have been taken, or he may have left on his own. There is little to indicate either being a more likely possibility."

Dumbledore nodded in agreement, "That is true..."

"But," Professor McGonagall shook her head, "anyone who Harry might leave with willingly is here."

"Really?" Vivian raised an eyebrow, "How can you be so sure?"

"Well..." Professor McGonagall stopped, shaking her head.

"Yes, the only people he's ever left his summer residence with willingly are the Weasleys," she said, nodding to the redheaded family, "and he would undoubtedly be willing to leave with one of his Professors if need be, but surely he must have other friends and acquaintances."

"Well... Hermione..." 

"Miss Granger's family is ruled out because she is Muggle-born and underage. The Improper Use of Magic Office would have known about it, and her parents are Muggles."

The others nodded in agreement.

Mrs. Weasley sighed, "But there isn't anyone else, not someone he'd trust enough to–"

"I believe that Mr. Potter was rather close to his third year DADA Professor, Mr. Remus Lupin?"

"Yes," Professor McGonagall nodded, "he was." She replied slowly, exchanging a look with the headmaster. The majority of the people in the room knew that Remus couldn't be responsible for Harry's disappearance. One, because he'd never do such a thing unless Harry was in imminent danger. And two, because he was currently on a mission for the Order, but they couldn't exactly tell this young, aspiring Auror – who they knew next to nothing about – _that! _

"I suppose we could always send and inquiry to Remus," Dumbledore nodded, "though I believe he has been at home for quite some time now."

"Oh," Vivian blinked, then nodded, "That's right, I'd forgotten. He's a werewolf, isn't he? Well, that rules him out."

"It does?" Ron blinked, "Why?"

"Because, Mr. Weasley," Snape murmured in a soft, yet slightly superior tone, "the full moon was the night before last, and Lupin therefore would not have had enough time to recover and be capable of extensive travel by yesterday morning."

Vivian raised an eyebrow slightly, "quite..." she paused for a moment, then nodded, "I do believe that Mr. Black is still evading capture..."

Nearly everyone in the room stiffened at this. For everyone who was a member of the Order knew that Sirius was also currently on a mission for the Order. And for those who did not know of Sirius's innocence, the mention of the fugitive's name brought about even greater concern for the Boy-Who-Lived's safety.

"It is possible," Snape murmured, "that Black _could_ have kidnapped the boy–"

"Possible, yes." Vivian nodded, cutting the Potions Master off, "but unlike. I do believe that Mr. Potter testified – not long after meeting him on the school grounds – that he believed Mr. Black to be innocent of all charges..."

"Yes, he did."

"I understand that you," The Auror turned to Ron, "Mr. Potter and Miss Granger were rather adamant about this proposal."

Ron nodded.

"Mademoiselle–"

"Vivien." The younger witch cut the deputy headmistress off a second time.

"Vivien," the Deputy Head Mistress nodded, "if you don't mind my asking... How do you know about that? I believe the Minister was very careful to keep that..."

"Under wraps?" Vivian supplied, then nodded, "Oh, he was. But the Ministry official that acted as scribe during the testimony sent me a copy."

Ron blinked, "Why did he do that?" he asked.

Vivian's face was expressionless as she replied, "Because I asked him to... So, that instigates that Mr. Black could indeed be the one who took Mr. Potter from his relatives house..." she frowned, "but it does not have any relevance as to why he would take the boy's aunt as well..." After a moment, she shook her head, "Ah, well, any ideas?"

Complete silence answered her inquiry.

Vivian laughed, and shook her head, clasping her hands together, "Very well then, we'll have to start from scratch!"

Everyone blinked at this.

"Pardon?" Snape inquired, not knowing what to think of this young, quick-witted and apparently very successful Auror.

"The Ministry has a number of procedures for kidnappings." The green-eyed Auror replied, "Thus far, the only part of any of them has been the notification of the press. It might be more productive to start a few of them, no?"

The others nodded.

Dumbledore smiled, "Indeed, we already have some people looking for Harry, but..."

"A few more sets of eyes and ears can only help," Vivian pointed out, rising to her feet. "I will see to it that some of those procedures are instigated." She walked over to the fireplace, tossed a handful of Floo Powder into the red and gold flames, then turned to face them once again, highlighted by the glow of the now roaring green flames, which emphasized her eyes dramatically. "Shall we meet back here... tomorrow?"

Dumbledore nodded.

She inclined her head slightly to them, in farewell, then turned throwing a handful of Floo Powder into the flames, she murmured, "The Potier Manor," and was gone in burst of green flame. 

~ * ~

Hearing a 'whooshing' sound from the fireplace, Harry looked up and smiled upon seeing his sister walk out of the diminishing emerald flames. "Vivian!" he jumped to his feet.

The witch smiled, "Hello Harry, enjoying yourself?"

Harry nodded, "I keep getting lost though! This place is huge! It reminds me of my first few days at Hogwarts..."

Vivian laughed with a smile, "You get used to it." She blinked, "what is it? What's wrong?"

Harry fidgeted slightly, and a smile tugged on the corner of his mouth, "Well... nothing's *wrong* per say... it's just... umm..." shaking his head, and quite obviously fighting the urge to laugh, he gestured for her to follow him and started walking.

Vivian followed her younger brother, her face baring a look of puzzlement that was rarely seen there. She grew even more confused as they neared the kitchens. She raised an eyebrow when they stopped outside the door. 

Harry gestured, and with a sigh she opened the door... and stopped.

The kitchen was a complete disaster... pots and pans... broken dishes, glasses and spills everywhere.

And there was her aunt... currently fighting with some of the house elves for a now very stretched piece of dough... 

"Oh dear..."

****

End of Chapter 2.

AN: Well, that's it for Chapter 2! I'd like to thank Evil Bunny of Doom, Trickster Jaina Fel, Jaded*Secrets, and Rachel A. Prongs for reviewing. I'm glad you enjoyed it. And yes, a nice Petunia is rather shocking, isn't it? But it seemed to fit... I went back and filled the blanks in... sorry, I'd honestly thought that I'd already done that!

****

Translations:

Consanguina - related by blood (Latin)

****

Bye! ^_^

~ _Jess S_


	4. Chapter 3: Lullaby's, Letters & Lectures

Disclaimer: I own the plot, I apologize if it's been done before. Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.  
AN: Hi! Real AN at the end! Enjoy!

**Consanguina**

**by Jess S**

**_Chapter 3: Lullaby's, Letters & Lectures_**__

_He was surrounded by darkness, pain, and terror._

_Gleaming, crimson eyes, alight with loathing were searching for him, while their owner hissed his hatred…_

_Voldemort…_

_It **was** only fair…_

_After all, it was his fault that the Dark Lord had returned…_

_Millions of voices, screeching hate or terror surrounded him…_

_Darkness…_

_Terror…_

_Pain!_

_Hate…_

_PAIN! So much pain! Echoing through the whole of his being…_

_"**Harry...**" a new, strangely familiar voice broke into his thoughts, echoing throughout the dreamscape. "**Harry… wake up, Harry… Harry!**"_  
  
_Wake up? If he were able to do that he would have done it as soon as this terrible nightmare started! He would have done that when he started having them, instead of his friends having to wake him to stop his screaming…_  
  
"**_Ennervate_**_._"  
  
The spell caused the eyes of the Boy-Who-Lived to fly open, to see his sister standing alongside his bed, leaning over him, her bright green eyes displaying her unease.   
  
"V-Vivian…?" he managed to gasp an inquiry.  
  
With a sigh the witch waved her wand, murmuring something under her breath as she waved it at the glass of water on his bedside table. Her wand disappeared (once again he wondered offhand, '_How does she do that…?_') as she picked the glass up, sitting down beside him.  
  
He struggled to sit up, taken aback at the difficulty of it, particularly the pain blazing through his body. He was use to feeling tremendous pain from his scar, but the pain had never extended past that, at least not when he was awake!   
  
"Here, drink this."  
  
Harry turned back turned slightly toward his sister, and opened his mouth as she pressed the cool glass to his lips. The cool liquid seemed to flow into his being, dousing all of the pain with astonishing swiftness.  
  
Just when Harry wasn't sure he'd be able to swallow any more of the liquid, the cup was withdrawn and placed on the bedside table, half-full.  
  
"Are you all right?" his sisters soft, melodic voice inquired.  
  
"…Yes…" Harry replied softly. He wasn't used to having someone beside him when he woke from his daily (or, actually, _nightly_) nightmares. The few times it'd happened in the infirmary had been one thing… but he honestly didn't have any idea how to proceed.  
  
Vivian adjusted the covers so that they came up to just above his chin, then took a handkerchief and gently wiped his sweaty brow.  
  
This continued for nearly a minute before Harry asked, "Aren't you going to ask me anything? What happened? Do I want to talk about it?..."  
  
"Do you want me to?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.  
  
Harry blinked, "N-no, not really…"  
  
Vivian smiled slightly, "Then why should I?"  
  
"W-well… everyone always…"  
  
The witch shook her head, still offering a small, gentle smile, "Not everyone is the same, Harry. And I do believe you'd find, if you stayed in the house of any other Auror – at least any of the ones in my department – you'd find few questions asked…"   
  
"_…_" Harry frowned, "Why?"  
  
"Only those who have felt pain, anguish and remorse can truly understand it."  
  
He blinked, surprised at the frankness of the statement, and how directly it suited the situation.  
  
His sister smiled, "If you do ever want to talk about it, I'm always here."   
  
Harry nodded.  
  
She chuckled quietly at his bewildered look, before leaning down to place a gentle kiss on his temple and wrapping him in a warm enfold.  
  
Harry stiffened slightly, and then slowly relaxed in his sister's embrace.   
  
As she pulled back, she noticed his thoughtful expression. "What is it?"  
  
He blinked, then reddened slightly. "Oh… nothing… it's just…"  
  
She raised an eyebrow.  
  
"…yourperfumesmellsfamiliar…"  
  
She blinked, then laughed, not quite beaming.  
  
"What?" he asked, "What is it?"  
  
"Nothing… you should have seen the look on your face thought!" she smiled, shaking her head. "As to the familiarity… I'm not surprised…"  
  
"What… why?"  
  
"It's the same perfume Mother used…"  
  
Harry blinked. "Mother…?"  
  
Vivian nodded.  
  
"But…" Harry shook his head, "…how would I remember that…? I was only… sixteen months old when Voldemort killed them!"  
  
His sister shrugged, "It's surprising what the brain can remember, isn't it? Though not so much in you… until you met Mr. Hagrid on your eleventh birthday, you had not known much happiness, no?"  
  
Harry nodded, still rather confused.  
  
"When one is discontent, the mind often resorts to holding on to happy memories… which is why Azkaban is considered to be a such a perfect punishment for Wizarding criminals…"  
  
Harry nodded, "Because the Dementors drain happiness out of you and take happy memories away…"  
  
Vivian nodded, "Correct. It leaves the prisoners trapped within their minds, with only dark, unhappy thoughts." She shook her head, and smiled, "You should get some rest. It's still quite a few hours till dawn…"  
  
Harry grimaced slightly, but quickly suppressed it, nodding. He started to turn on to his side, when a gentle hand stopped him.   
  
"What is it?" came his sister's lilting voice.  
  
He sighed, turning back to face her. He should have known one of the Ministry's finest Aurors wouldn't overlook things easily. "It's nothing…"  
  
His sister only raised an elegant eyebrow.  
  
Harry sighed once again, "It's… it's just that… I always have trouble getting back to sleep after my visions… wait… do you know–"  
  
"About your connection to Voldemort and the increasing number of visions you've been having since his return?" she finished, "yes."  
  
"But… _how?_ I thought only Dumbledore knew about…"  
  
"Did you forget Miss. Skeeter's _wonderful_ articles already?" Vivian asked, clearly amused. She then frowned, "Her comments towards your sanity not withstanding, her descriptions made it relatively easy to figure out what was really going on…" she shook her head before admitting, "of course, I had suspected it before that."  
  
"You did…?" Harry blinked, "how?"  
  
"I've studied ancient magic a great deal more than most. My tutors had found a number of spells that Mother may have used to shield you… All of the spells resort to using the attacker's magic against them… The few cases on record showed that the ward gained a significant increase in some areas that could be linked to their attacker. Your ability as a Parselmouth confirmed that."  
  
Harry was about to ask how she'd known about that prior to reading Skeeter's articles, but he suddenly felt very tired, and couldn't hold back a yawn. This action astonished him. He'd always wanted to have someone to talk to especially after the visions and nightmares, leaving him awake in the dark for many long, lonely hours… someone who would listen when he needed to talk… advise when he needed advice… and sometimes just be there… Now, he had that, and he wanted to go back to sleep!   
  
"Rest now, little brother..." Vivian smiled, humming quietly as she brushed a gentle, pale hand across his brow, "All is well…" She then went from humming to singing quietly.  
  
With a soft sigh the young wizard allowed his eyelids to droop and fell into a wonderfully dreamless sleep. 

~ * ~

Vivian sighed as she finished singing the lullaby her mother had always sung to them, smiling down at her now sleeping baby brother. She rose to her feet, and after checking to make sure the covers were securely tucked under his chin, left the room, activating additional wards as she did so.  
  
Harry would not be plagued by any nightmares tonight, she knew that he never suffered from more than one vision a night, and the concoction she'd slipped into his water would ensure that his subconscious remained dormant for the next few hours.  
  
The Auror's high-heeled dragon-hide boots did not echo through the silent corridors, thanks – in part – to the exquisite Persian rugs she walked upon. She stopped a few feet away from Harry's room, grasping the golden knob of an apparently ancient oak door, and pulling it open.  
  
She stepped through the doorway into the front parlor, giving a small tug on the door to make sure it would close, before releasing it. Had she turned around to ensure that the door had indeed closed, she would find that there was no door to the entrance she had just stepped through. But she did not turn, and instead crossed the parlor to another oak door, opening it and stepping into her study.  
  
Vivian crossed to the desk, opening the window behind it before seating herself in the stylish chair that was there as well.  
  
With a sigh, she took hold of the small silver bell on the desk, replacing it once it's gentle ring echoed through the room.  
  
A moment later a house elf appeared. "You be wanting something mistress?"  
  
"Yes, Laurel, isn't it?" seeing the house elf's nod, she continued. "I'd like a cup of tea, one milk, one sugar, if it's no trouble."  
  
"Oh, none at all, mistress, none at all!" with that the little creature disappeared.  
  
Vivian sigh, glancing out the window at the crescent moon that currently graced the sky, surrounded by millions of glittering stars. 

"Mistress...?"

Shaking her head to escape her silent woes, she turned toward the tentative, smiling at the small house elf clad in a silk toga. After taking the chine teacup off the proffered tray she nodded, "Thank you, Laurel."

The house elf smiled brightly, "It is nothing, mistress. Are you wanting anything more?"

"No, thank you. You may go do as you please."

"If you need anything, mis–"

"I'll ring."

"Yes, mistress." With a deep curtsy the small servant disappeared.

Vivian shook her head, taking a sip from the porcelain cup before setting and the saucer on the desk. She turned back toward the open window, except this time it wasn't the moon that caught her eye, it was an owl, swooping down toward the window at high speed, a scroll in its grasp.

Vivian could tell at a glance that the avian creature was obviously a Malay Fish Owl, for although the creature was similar to the Eagle Owl – an owl that could be found all over Europe – in size, the similarity's ended there. The feathers on the small creature's head and face formed a distinct "V" shape. Its brown feathers were slightly paler on its underside. It's large yellow eyes blinked at her from its light brown facial disks as it landed on the perch placed strategically beside the window for such a purpose. Of course, this breed would probably strike another as odd, for the owl should not be found outside the wooded areas of the Indonesian islands, Thailand and Malaysia, but this was the Wizarding World; what could you expect?

Vivian raised an eyebrow at the peculiar breed, but did not hesitate in taking the envelope it carried from its talons. She pressed the familiar silver crest, which quickly disappeared, and then opened it. 

It took less than a minute for her bright-green eyes to take in the elegant script, but it would be several hours before she would send a reply, as the first signs of predawn began to become apparent along the horizon. 

~ * ~

The Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry did not appeared to be the least bit fazed by the wizard, Sirius Black, who most of the Wizarding world knew as an immoral and dangerous fugitive, pacing back and fourth in front of his desk.  
  
"But how could you possibly not know _anything?!_" the anxious wizard demanded.  
  
"Now, Sirius," the other Wizard replied before the Headmaster could, "You can't fault the Headmaster for this, he had no way of knowing–"  
  
"But the wards were obviously flawed! They were set to protect Harry and now some dark wizard's kidnapped him! He may very well now be in You-Know–"  
  
Remus interrupted his best friends rant a second time, "And the wards _did_ work, for nearly fourteen-years. It was only inevitable that someone would eventually find a flaw in them, and exploit it." He shook his head, and was about to continued, but stopped as Dumbledore finally decided to speak.  
  
"That is quite true, Remus," the older wizard shook his head, "but we cannot fault Sirius for his actions, everyone has a different way of handling grief, and worry."   
  
Remus nodded in agreement, and after a moment Sirius took the seat next to him with a resigned sigh.   
  
"As it is, I am very happy to be able to state that we do not believe Voldemort was behind young Harry's disappearance."  
  
"Severus?" Remus asked, with a raised eyebrow.   
  
Dumbledore nodded, "Yes, it seems that Voldemort is as disturbed by the boy's disappearance as we are, for the simple fact that he is not responsible for it. According to several members of the order, passive Death Eater activity has increased since Harry's disappearance and Severus had told me that it appears that discovering Harry's whereabouts has become Voldemort's top priority."  
  
Before the other two wizards could reply the flames in the fireplace roared, calling the Headmaster to them.  
  
"Yes?" Dumbledore inquired.  
  
"May all of us come through Headmaster?" came Arthur Weasley's voice from the flames.  
  
Dumbledore glanced back towards his current guest, to see Remus nod, and Snuffles curled up on the chair Sirius had been sitting in. With a nod he turned back to the fire, "Of course."  
  
A moment later the flames rose to allow Mr. Weasley to step into the Headmaster's office, quickly followed by the rest of his family.  
  
"Well?" Ron demanded, looking at the Headmaster beseechingly.  
  
Dumbledore sighed, "I am afraid that the order has made little progress since yesterday afternoon… We can only hope the Ministry faired better…"  
  
Ron snorted quietly, but chose to remain quiet otherwise.  
  
The Headmaster smiled slightly at the person beside him, "Ahh, Miss Granger, so glad you could join us."  
  
Hermione smiled faintly, "Thank you, Professor. There really hasn't been any news?" She asked, looking slightly hopeful.  
  
"None that I am aware of," was his reply. "You will be staying with the Weasley's?"   
  
Hermione nodded, "My parents agreed that it was probably for the best."  
  
Dumbledore nodded, "It very well may be…" he sighed, and shook his head, "Now, I believe the others should be here soon," he paused, and a moment later the door opened, admitting the House Heads, "ahh, there you all are."  
  
The Professors nodded in greeting, and everyone found seats around the room. The Potions Master seemed to believe that he was above glaring at the Grim-like dog in the chair in front of the Headmasters desk, which was growling at him.  
  
"Has there been any news, Albus?" Professor McGonagall inquired worriedly.  
  
"As I was just informing the Weasley's," he replied with a sigh, "The Order has not had any success in locating young Harry or discovering anything related to who might have abducted him."  
  
"What about You-Know-Who?" Fred – or maybe it was George – asked nervously.   
  
Professor Snape shook his head slightly and Dumbledore sighed, "It seems Lord Voldemort is as bewildered by this series of events as we are, which makes the situation all the more puzzling…"

There was a burst of green flame from the fireplace, and a moment later both Mad-Eye Moody and Arabella Figg stood in the Headmasters office.

Arabella raised an eyebrow, "I beg your pardon, are we late?"  
  
"No, no," Dumbledore smiled, "not at all. Please," he gestured to two of the three remaining vacant seats.  
  
"Thank you." Arabella replied, sitting down. She looked around, "Vivian's not here yet, then?"  
  
Another roar from the fireplace overrode any response to her inquiry.   
  
Vivian stepped out of the green flames, and smiled at the seated assembly. She shook her head, "It seems I'll have to work on my timing, I can't ever seem to show up on time!"  
  
Moody laughed, a sound that made many of the younger wizards shiver, "Don't worry about that, Potier. You're as prompt as ever."  
  
Vivian smiled at the older Auror, before taking the last vacant seat. "Have I missed anything?" she asked, looking around.  
  
"No," Dumbledore shook his head, and released another sigh, "I was just explaining that we haven't been able to find anything. Have you had any more luck?" he asked, glancing at the three Aurors.  
  
Both Arabella and Moody shook their heads.  
  
Arabella sighed, "We couldn't find anything more at the boy's relatives house," she snorted, shaking her head. "Not that we had much time, they practically threw us out as soon as they knew we weren't there to harm them!" She glanced at Vivian, "I don't suppose you faired any better? You said you'd check back there."  
  
Vivian laughed, "Yes, though I checked back there before you. I went there soon after leaving the meeting yesterday. His uncle and cousin really are awful conceited, aren't they?" she shook her head, "The only thing I found was that whoever was there yesterday was very good at Apparation, and they must have quite a few contacts in high positions, or be rather highly ranked in the Ministry themselves."  
  
"How do you know that?" Ron asked the question that was on every ones minds.   
  
Vivian sighed, "The Ministry wards were down from midnight to midday, the day Mr. Potter was kidnapped–"  
  
"_What?!_" Ron cried, outraged, as many in the room appeared to be, "Why? Did that great big git Fud–"  
  
"The department was rerouting the Floo network in that area," Vivian interrupted him smoothly, "they do that every now and then."  
  
"Why would they need to take the wards down?" Hermione asked nervously.  
  
Vivian smiled at her reassuringly. "In order to reroute the network – a form of travel – they needed to make sure there was as little interference as possible – quite routine – it cuts the time they have to work on the project to the bare minimum. With the wards up it could take anywhere from a week to a month. With them down it took a little under twenty-four hours." She sighed, "Only someone in the department, or someone who follows every operation the Ministry handles on a daily basis could have known about it, unless they had a contact."   
  
"But," Arabella shook her head, "don't they usually have someone watch warded areas when the wards are lowered?"  
  
The younger Aurors face darkened. "Indeed… it would appear that one Auror, Macnair, was given that assignment, with the help of a member of the Misuse of Magic Department… Hopkirk, I think it was. Ms. Hopkirk, a close friend of the Minister, left her shift early; apparently, she didn't consider it an significant obligation to be assigned to…"  
  
"Macnair?" Arabella blinked, "... I thought he was on the Committee for the disposal of Magical creatures." 

Vivian nodded, "Walden Macnair is, his younger brother; Antonin, was an Auror."

"...was?" Ginny repeated in a small, inquiring voice.  
  
"What happened to him?" George – or maybe it was Fred – added.   
  
"He's dead." She replied, "Avada Kedavra."  
  
Everyone in the room stiffened.  
  
Hermione gasped, "Harry's kidnapper killed him?"   
  
Vivian glanced at her, "That is quite possible." 

~ * ~

Harry yawned, coming down the stairs in casual summer robes, pale blue over gray. Entering the nearest parlor, he was somewhat surprised to see his aunt sitting at the desk by the window. He was surprised for a number of reasons. One, he still wasn't used to the fact that his aunt _was_ nice and liked being in a Wizarding home... Two, she was attired in a casual, blue dress that went down to her ankles, sandals adorning her feet. He was so used to seeing her in strictly ordinary (and exceptionally dull) Muggle attire, partially covered by an apron, that the sight was somewhat bewildering. The dress complimented her thin frame, making it look willowy; emphasizing a slender waist while concealing rather angular legs in the graceful, silky folds of her skirt. Her hair was no longer quite as lifeless as it had once been, now bearing a slight, attractive shimmer as it was pulled up into an elegant French-braid.

At that moment, his aunt glanced up, and happened to see his reflection in the mirror. She turned to him with a soft smile, "Good morning, Harry. Did you sleep well?"

Still slightly taken aback by her open friendliness, the young wizard hesitated before replying. "Yes Aunt Petunia, thank you."

She nodded, offering him another smile – and Harry noted, with some surprise, that her blue eyes, like her hair, were no longer quite as dull as they had been previously–, before turning back to the desk.

After a moments pause, the young wizard walked over to his aunt, glancing at the paper work that she was currently reading through. "What's that?" he asked curiously.

Aunt Petunia glanced at him offering another small, warm smile. "Divorce papers."

"What?!" 

~ * ~

Vivian sighed, more than a little annoyed by the seemingly endless chatter that currently filled the Headmasters office, as it had for the past several hours. Touched as she was by their obvious concern for her little brother's well being, she knew that this bothered her simply because if Harry _had_ actually been kidnapped, this would solve nothing. 

Her attention was drawn back to the present by a slight tremble from an object on her wrist. She knew immediately what it was, and frowned, glancing at what most would mistake as a nice, interestingly bejeweled bracelet. 

"Is something wrong, Vivian?" the Headmaster inquired, catching her sudden change in focus. His comment also caused the others to stop bickering and focus on the young Auror.

'_Well, at least it got them to shut up,_' she thought, but her expression was void as she replied, "I'm not entirely sure, may I use your fire?"

"Of course," Dumbledore nodded, gesturing calmly.

With an ease and grace that most would not believe possible after sitting in the same chair for nearly six hours, Vivian rose to her feet, and glided over to the fireplace. Once there, she took a pinch of some multi-colored powder from a small sack – that had suddenly appeared in her hand – into the fire. She then pointed her wand – which had somehow replaced the sack – at the fire and murmuring some unintelligible Latin words. The fire (which had turned white when the powder was added) now began taking many shades as it grew in height. After a moment it could be described as a small person dressed in and made of multi-colored flames.

A quiet voice – which somehow seemed to be many voices at once – spoke. "_You summoned us... Mistress... What is your command...?_"

"A word with _Riatanya Willow_, please." 

"_Very well... Mistress..._" and the figure collapsed into multi-colored, but otherwise apparently normal flames, once again. 

"What's that?" Ginny asked.

Vivian didn't turn. "_Ignigenae_ powder, a wonderfully useful form of communication, if a bit costly..."

"Why can't you just use a regular fire sending?" Hermione inquired.

This time Vivian did glance back at them, offering a slight smile. "Because a fire sending requires two fires. An _Ignigena_ sending requires only one... it can use any other form of appurtenance on the other side..."

"Like what?" Hermione persisted.

"Oh... make-up kits, some other form of mirror, silver-ware, china, whatever they're drinking, glasses, and, if there's no other choice, even the air before them." Before any of them could reply she turned back to the fire, and smiled as the tiny image of a young woman in Aurors robes appeared. "Ah, Ria, you called?"

"_Yes,_" the image replied, "_I hope I was not interrupting...?_"

"Of course not. What did you find?"

"_Something that I'm rather certain you'll find very interesting... I'll send it over..._"

Vivian nodded, "Very well," she replied, stepping back from the fire.

A moment later the fire turned completely white again and rose up. When the flames receded a large envelope of the Muggle fashion was left in its place, hovering above the flames surrounded by a faint white glow.

Vivian raised an eyebrow, taking the envelope in hand, as the flames became multicolored once again, the same small projection in their core.

"_I found this at the Muggle courthouse near Surrey, London," the witch in the fire continued, while Vivian opened the envelope, "It arrived at eleven o'clock this morning. I have already tested it._"

Vivian raised an eyebrow a second time as her eyes skimmed the contents of the first Muggle document. "How very curious..." she murmured, before glancing up at the fire and nodding, "Thank you, Ria. Well done... Are you having any luck on the Macnair case?"

The projection shook its head, "_No, none at all._"

"Very well," Vivian smiled, "Keep up the good work."

The figure in the flames bowed before disappearing, the white flames slowly returning to their normal shade and hue.

"What is it?" Ginny asked curiously.

"Hmm?" Vivian glanced up, and smiled slightly. "It seems we may not need to worry about Mr. Potter's health after all, simply his location."

"What?" Professor Snape's voice broke the startled silence. "What do you mean?"

"Out of curiosity," Vivian inquired, "many of you have met Mr. Potter's relatives, yes?"

All of the Weasleys' nodded, as did a few of the teachers.

"You stated previously," Vivian turned to Ron, "that Mr. Potter was unhappy with his relatives?"

Ron nodded, "Yeah, they hate him, th–"

"Oh, do they?" Vivian raised an eyebrow, "Are you sure?" 

After a confused silence, Mr. Weasley spoke up, "I've only met Harry's relatives once, and they truly did not seem to have any fondness for him..."

"Hmm..." Vivian shook her head, "Curious..."

"What's curious?" Ginny asked.

"These," Vivian indicated the documents in her hand, "are divorce papers. Apparently Mrs. Dursley – or should I say – Miss Evans, was not... happy in her marital situation... The divorce is set entirely to paper work, it won't go to court unless Mr. Dursley objects... which is unlikely, considering she left everything to her ex-husband and her son, with the exception of her nephew's guardianship."

"What?!" the Weasleys yelped. 

~ * ~

Harry sighed, shaking his head at one of his Potions books, _Magical Drafts and Potions_.

"Problem, Harry?"

Harry's glanced up, "Hi, Aunt Petunia..."

The blonde made her way over to the sitting area in the manor library, sitting herself beside her nephew. "What's wrong?"

"What?" Harry blinked, "Oh... it's nothing... I'm just having a little trouble with my Potions homework..."

"Is there anything I could do to help?" she asked.

"Not really..." Harry sighed, "The main problem I have is that I don't like the subject, so I always have trouble with the work..."

"Why?"

"What?" Harry blinked for a second time.

"Why don't you like the subject?" she asked.

"Oh... well... the teacher doesn't really like me... he hated my dad... and he thinks I'm spoiled by my 'fame'... so he always gives me a hard time..." Harry sighed.

Aunt Petunia sighed, "Here, let me see..."

Shrugging, Harry handed her the textbook. 

Petunia scanned the page and after a moment a look of rather intense dislike crossed her features. "Ugh... this looks a little too much like chemistry for my taste!" she sighed, "So the problem you have is that you don't like the class?" 

Harry nodded.

"Or is it that you don't have any respect for how the subject effects you?"

The teen frowned.

"That was the problem I had with chemistry... I thought it was all complete nonsense – couldn't be used for anything... until I didn't follow directions one day, which resulted in an explosion that destroyed half of the lab... Mother and Father were _furious_..." she sighed, "I didn't learn to appreciate it until years later... when I realized what its purpose was..."

"What is it?" Harry asked, curious.

"Life..." she sighed, "Where do you think medicine comes from? I should think even Wizarding medications apply to the same theory... all forms of medicine... aspirin, penicillin, antibiotics, vaccines... they're things many unconsciously depend on every day, and they're all thanks to chemistry..." She raised an eyebrow, "I assume the Wizarding world has similar circumstances...?"

Harry thought about it for a moment, then nodded. Yes, they did depend on potions, all the time. Sure, Madame Pomfrey could mend broken bones with a flick of her wrist, but she had to use _Skel-Gro_ in order to grow them back. 

"Well then, that's one step..." she rose to her feet, "I'll see if I can find anything useful..."

Harry shook his head as his aunt disappeared into the many bookcases... unconsciously noting that Hermione would probably like to talk with this version of his aunt, almost as much as she'd adore the Potter library. 

A few minutes later, Aunt Petunia returned. "Here try this," she said, handing him a novel that looked decidedly ancient. "I'll go and fetch some tea and something to eat..."

Harry nodded with a smile, "Thank you, Aunt Petunia."

"Your welcome, Harry," she smiled before turning, if Harry's hearing wasn't as sharp as it was, he probably wouldn't have heard her murmur, "I only wish I could do more..."

Harry sighed, shaking his head. He liked this version of his aunt a great deal, but it was hard to get used to. He turned back to the book she'd handed him; _Potente Potions_, and opened it to the first page, which read: 

_A traditional Wizard must often brew potions for various purposes. This form of magical art is closely linked to the magical properties of various herbs. Ingredients vary, may it be spices, the roots of various plants, or an attribute of a magical creature. _

_One of the most potent ingredients of ancient times was trifolium, also known as the satyrion root, which is mentioned in many ancient texts, 'Satyricon' by the ancient Roman author Petronius, being one of them. There appears to be no modern equivalent of the root, although sometimes the root of a particular orchid is labeled as satyrion root, it is not exact the same. Another root, which is used for similar purpose, though it is not quite as potent, is the ever-perilous Mandrake root._

_Wizards need to take care that their potions did not have adverse side effects. If one ingredient is inaccurate, the results may be disastrous. In the best possible scenario, the reaction will be immediate and easily caught. Perhaps it will result in an explosion, which, while dangerous to the brewer, is much preferred to the possibility of causing the drinker of the potion harm... Which is quite possible, considering that many potent ingredients are often poisonous, and therefore neutralized with another ingredient, if the poison is not neutralized, then the potion will certainly do more harm that good. It is for this reason that Potions Masters are often very severe with pupils. Few possess an inborn talent for potion making, but certain aspects of the art can be learned, with the appropriate perseverance. Also, ingredients for potions are often rather expensive, as many precautions must be taken to ensure that ingredient is the right one and that it is not affected by an unknown factor. _

"How's it going?"

Harry blinked and looked up. "Wha–? Oh!" he shrugged, and smiled at his aunt as she walked over to him once again, this time bearing a tray with tea and cookies.

She set the tray on the table in front of them, pouring tea for both of them. Without asking she added milk to both of them and half a lump of sugar. She then handed the cup with the sugar to Harry.

Harry blinked, "...how did you know I like tea this way?"

Petunia looked up, blinked, then blushed lightly. "Oh I'm sorry! I should have asked!"

"That's alright," he replied, taking a sip, "it's very good, but how did you know?"

"Oh, both your mother and Vivian always took tea that way, well Vivian's taste may have changed, I just assumed you were the same..." She shook her head, "Foolish really, you could have had your fathers preference." She wrinkled her nose, clearly she didn't agree with that 'preference'.

"Why?" he asked, "How did my Dad take his tea?"

Another feminine voice replied, "Two milks, one cinnamon and one lemon, no sugar, never cream."

Both turned toward the door as Vivian entered with a smile.

"What are you two up to?" she asked, sitting down on the settee across from them.

"We're trying to make Potions seem worthwhile." Harry replied, his face perfectly straight.

Vivian blinked, "Trying to…?" she laughed, shaking her head, "Ah yes, now I remember. You and Professor Snape don't relate very well to one another, do you?"

Harry remained silent.

Vivian shook her head, "Honestly, I'd think that's be enough of a reason to do exceptionally well in the class."

Harry frowned, "Why?"

"Well," Vivian replied, stirring half a lump of sugar into her tea, having already added the milk. "Professor Snape is rather difficult to impress, no doubt. He's somewhat of a protégé in potions. Very much enthralled with his profession."

Harry snorted.

Vivian smiled, "Or at least with Potion making, perhaps not so much with the teaching, though you might be surprised." She suggested, raising an eyebrow, "As I was saying, there is nothing he respects more than the ability to make potions. Performing poorly in his class is only a way for him to justify demeaning you, if you showed some skill and interest in Potions, even if you need to force it – though honestly I always found it rather interesting – he may not like you, but at the very least, he couldn't help but respect you on some level." She shook her head, "Enough lecturing, how's your homework coming?" 

Harry shrugged, "I finished Charms, Potions is proving difficult."

"What was your assignment?" the witch asked, taking a sip from the delicate, china teacup.

Harry sighed, "A twelve foot essay on the _Ilnwalya Potion_." He shook his head, "I don't even know where to begin…"

"_Tarya'Ilnwalya_, hmm?" Vivian smiled, setting her teacup back on her saucer. "I should think that'd be easy enough. It is a rather complex potion, for a multifaceted problem, with plenty of examples of what can go wrong with it, should it be brewed incorrectly."

"But that's just I," the wizard sighed once again, frustrated, "I don't understand _any_ of that!"

"Do you know what _Ilnwalya_ is used for?" 

Harry nodded, "It's an antidote for unquall-unqualeck–"

"_Unqualekaimasse_?" Vivian shook her head, "close, but not quite. _Tarya'Ilnwalya_ is the vaccine for _Kaimasse_, a defense, not a solution. There's at least one whole foot of parchment in that distinction, for it is an important one."

"What?" Harry blinked, "Why?"

Vivian raised an eyebrow, "Well, it certainly isn't a good idea to give someone infected with an extremely hazardous, even lethal illness, more of that illness." Seeing his confused look, she went on to explain; "a vaccine is a small dose of an illness, given to a patient to help their immune system build up a resistance to that particular illness. If you give it to them when they already have the illness, it won't do them any good, and may very well do them severe harm."

Harry nodded his understanding. Then, he blinked, "The actual disease is in the vaccine?"

Vivian nodded, "Yes, that, combined with how pricey many of the other essential ingredients, is why it's so dangerous to make. That danger should take at least three feet, listing and explaining the other ingredient; several more." She smiled, "You see, twelve feet isn't _that_ hard."

Harry sighed.

"Irritating, yes," the witch allowed, "but certainly not impossible. Introduction and conclusion; one foot, an analysis of _Unqualekaimasse_ itself; two feet, the distinction between _Tarya'Ilnwalya_; the vaccine, and an antidote; one foot, plus the fact that there is no known antidote–"

"There isn't?" the wizard asked.

She nodded, "Yes, no antidote, there _is_ _Almaarea'Kuile_, which can be used to assist a victims immune systems and whatnot, but no actual antidote. That would another foot… Hmm, perhaps some background info on the Potion's Masters who researched the disease – Darzinski and Zigur, I think it was – that should be about two more feet. An accurate paraphrasing of Darzinski's procedure for brewing Almaarea' would be at least two feet," seeing his doubting look, she waved her wand, murmuring, "_Accio_," and a think leather-bound text flew to her outstretched hand, the table shook; making the tea set rattle, when she half-dropped, half-placed the antique text on the coffee table. "**_This_** is Darzinski's procedure, Harry."

Harry's eyes widened, "All that?"

"Um-hmm," Vivian nodded, opening the manual carefully.

Harry eyed the first page, which was labeled; "_Quam Abe Conficio Almaarea'Kuile by Erick Darzinski_". He shook his head, "That'd have to take at least ten feet!"

"Undoubtedly," Vivian agreed, "However, I don't recommend it, it's quite dry." She waved her wand, muttering "_Accio_," a second time, summoning a smaller text. "Here," she said, handing him the scroll.

"What's this?" Harry asked, accepting it.

"A report I wrote on _Almaarea_ a few years back, to receive my masters."

"Your what?" Harry blinked.

"My degree in Potions." She replied, then blinked, "Oh wait," she tapped the text with her wand, murmuring "_Convertere_," then smiled, "Now you should be able to read it."

"Why couldn't I've read it before."

"Can you read French?"

"Oh… no."

Petunia shook her head, while taking a sip of tea and smiling over the sibling bonding she now observed.

~ * ~

Several hours later, when the moon hung high in the sky, Vivian found herself, once again, at her brother's bedside. "Harry… Harry!"

Once again, bright green eyes snapped open to meet an identical pair of emerald orbs. 

Vivian sighed, offering him a glass of what, this time containing only light calming potion, instead of a painkiller, as he didn't seem to be suffering from the aftershocks of the Cruciatus.

Seeing the sheer exhaustion in the younger wizard's brilliant gaze, she smiled softly, once again brushing a hand across his brow, so lightly that he could barely feel it, and murmured; "Rest now, little brother; all is well…" before singing the familiar lines of her mother's lullaby once again, sending him away from the world of the waking. 

When he finally relaxed completely, his breathing slowed, showing that he was truly asleep, she slipped another phial out of her robes, gently nudging his mouth open and pouring its contents in, gently running a hand down his throat several times, until he swallowed. 

She then rose to her feet, leaving the room again, the phial was returning to one of the many holders on the inside of her robe. She made her way down the silent corridors in silence, only stopping to instruct one of the house elves that she was not to be disturbed until predawn, with the exception of an emergency.

~ * ~

Late the next morning, Harry found his sister and his aunt discussing current events, both Wizarding and Muggle, over tea in the parlor.

"Good morning, Harry," Vivian greeted him, drawing a blink of surprise from the younger Potter, seeing as her back was to the door, and she therefore hadn't seen him enter.

"How'd you know I was here?" he asked. He hadn't thought he'd made much noise…

Vivian laughed turning toward him with a smile, "Come, have a seat," she gestured toward the vacant chairs around the room. When he obliged, she handed him a cup of tea; already prepared. "Drink, it will help you come around." She ordered, when he made to protest, "As to your question; you may notice, that there are times before an attack, or an accident, or something of that nature, when you sense danger. That premonition is fairly common in the Wizarding world. With practice you can learn to sense and recognize the presence of others. I have been around you enough to recognize your presence." She took a sip of her tea before continuing. "I am also an Auror, and some would say a politician, over the years my foresight has been exceptionally necessary, so now it's basically always on. So, I knew that the person approaching was no threat, and, as you and Aunt Petunia are currently the only guests I have, Aunt Petunia sitting right beside me, and I none of the many sensors around the Manor have gone off, so all the wards are still in place, therefore, you are the only person who could be coming."

"Oh," Harry blinked, "Ok…"

His sister chuckled, shaking her head, "Sorry, I'm not used to having company that I can trust completely, I don't mean to chatter."

Petunia laughed, "That's quite alright, dear. What are your plans today?" 

Harry smirked, "Are you going to work a little more on your case?"

"No," Vivian laughed, "I think I'll give your friends and teachers a day to process what we've already given them, while I investigate a little more, of course." She smiled, "I generally train on Sundays."

"Train?" Petunia queried.

"Magically and physically," she explained. "I have a large training room here, as well as a maze, and an arena."

"An arena?" Harry asked.

"Yes," the Auror nodded, "modeled after the Roman Coliseum."

"…Why?"

She shrugged, "I wanted one. And it is actually rather useful. On the rare occasions I have enough guests here, it's wonderful for Quidditch, picnics, etc. And, of course, it's useful for dueling preparation, and actual duels, if they can be scheduled here."

They stared at her.

"Dueling?" Petunia squeaked.

"Um-hmm," Vivian nodded, taking another sip of tea.

Harry raised an eyebrow, "Scheduled?"

"Oh yes," she nodded again. "Nowadays there aren't many who are actually _good_ duelists, but some time back, that wasn't true. Many pureblood families still hold to those traditions. You have a problem with someone; you challenge them to a duel. Even today, many of those traditions are still in place in the government, though not everyone knows about them; Fudge certainly doesn't."

"What'd you mean?" Harry asked, curious.

"Fudge manages to upset to many witches and wizards who are known as practiced duelists, some of the expert level, to really know the taboo's of the ancient Wizarding world."

"Like what?" 

"For example, the only reason Fudge respects me, is because he knows the majority of the Ministry does, and he fears me, because he knows I'm a good duelist, who is completely cold blooded in combat, which I am." She affirmed, when Harry opened his mouth to object, "I wouldn't be here now if I wasn't… He does not, however, respect me and strive to make sure I am not particularly displeased with him because he knows I have the legal right to relieve him of his office, should I believe him to be incompetent."

"You can?" Harry asked.

She nodded, "I'm an Auror General; five stars, Order of Merlin; First Class. There are only a few others within the Ministry who equal me in rank, there is only one rank higher then me; militarily, and no one holds that position."

[AN: The ranks and everything are based on the U.S. military.]

Harry blinked once more, "You're a general?" he frowned, "but… you don't actually work in an army, do you?"

"The Department of Magical Law Enforcement _is_ the Britain's Wizarding military. The Aurors are the only specifically combat-trained group it has. The ranks are as such, even though we don't always work in that manor. Generally, we serve in small teams, pairs, or solo, on whatever missions we're needed for. It's become somewhat of a custom over the years, that if you handle so many 'special assignments', which is what I've done for most of my career, the first time you handle a particularly dangerous SA you're given an Order of Merlin, either third or second class, depending on the risk involved. The next time, you're moved up to First Class. There aren't that many people with an Order of Merlin; First Class, therefore everyone knows who they are, and when they do more; everyone expects them to be rewarded. So, when they're an Auror, they're given a star, that star had to mean something, so they also add a rank; brigadier general. Another star; major general. Third star; lieutenant general. Fourth star; full general."

"What's it mean?"

"I believe, within the Muggle military, those ranks are quite a bit more demanding, but in the Wizarding world," Vivian shrugged, "it just means that Aurors of lesser rank have to listen to you, and other witches and wizard do too."

Aunt Petunia frowned, "Isn't there a rank above full general?"

"Hmm?" Vivian blinked, "Oh! Yes, there is. I believe the Muggle term is; General of the Army…" she shrugged, "very few people ever make it that far. The Ministry has always been careful about a fifth star." She shook her head, "Anyway, I was wondering if you'd care to join me, Harry?"

Harry blinked, "Join you? … In training, you mean?"

Vivian nodded, "Yes. As I understand it, there hasn't been that much structure in your DADA training. Considering Voldemort's return, you should have more training, and I'd be happy to tutor you."

Harry nodded, "Sure, why not?" he paused, considering, then asked; "Do you know who the new DADA will be?"

Vivian shook her head, "Dumbledore hasn't received any offers… but don't worry, you won't be without DADA in your fifth year."

"How do you know?" he asked.

The witch shrugged, "If no one offers, I'll just ask one of my people to take the job."

Harry blinked, "Oh," then something seemed to occur to him.

"What is it?" Vivian asked.

"Could you take the position?"

The Auror blinked, "Hmm…" she frowned, "I never thought of that… maybe," she shrugged.

"Have you ever taught before?" Aunt Petunia asked.

"Yes, actually," Vivian replied, "At Beauxbatons I was Assistant Prof. in Potions one year, and DADA in another. They were part of my Masters. Well," she set her now empty teacup down, meeting Harry's eyes. "Shall we?"

Harry blinked, "What?"

"Train."

"Oh! Right… sure." Harry agreed hurriedly setting his empty cup down and rising.

Vivian also rose, with a more grace, she smiled at her aunt, "If you'll excuse us, Aunt Petunia?"

The older woman waved her hand, "Run along you two, I'm sure I can find something for amusement."

The witch laughed, "Try not to bother the house elves again," she replied, receiving a half-hearted scowl in response, before leading her brother out of the parlor.

~ * ~

Lord Voldemort glared at the members of his inner circle. "How is it that Harry Potter, undoubtedly the most famous wizard of his generation, could simply vanish off the face of the Earth?" he demanded, not expecting an answer; for no one would dare speak in his presence without explicit permission. "How is it that none of you have _any_ idea of where he may be?! Severus!"

A dark robed, and masked Severus Snape stepped forward, "Yes, my lord?"

"Are you certain that that Muggle-loving old fool has _no_ idea of where his Golden Boy is?"

"Yes, my lord," Snape nodded, glad that he could actually tell the truth. The Dark Lord was rarely as angry as he was right now, it was hard to concentrate under his demonic glare, Snape didn't doubt he could've lied, if need be, he had for years, but it was a relief not having to. "Dumbledore had no idea whatsoever, he has all of his contacts searching, and the entire staff working double time, but we have found nothing… The Aurors assigned to the case are the only ones making any progress, and even that is diminutive."

"I see," Voldemort hissed, caressing his pet snake; Nagina's [sp?] head. "These Aurors are…?"

"Alastor Moody, Arabella Figg and Vivian Potier." The Professors replied promptly, he hadn't wanted to endanger them, but he had expected the question, and it really wasn't necessary to put himself on the line for them; all three were Aurors, they could take care of themselves.

"Hmmm…" Voldemort leaned back in his throne, now appearing thoughtful.

Severus barely suppressed a shiver, that was the same look the Dark Lord had had on his face the night he declared the Potter's his next target… it hadn't appeared quite so dangerous then, but, then again, he'd been a handsome man then, just past his prime; now he looked nothing short of demonic.

"Potier…" Voldemort frowned, "She is the one responsible for many of our missing allies, yes?"

Severus only just managed to repress a frown at this; he hadn't realized the Dark Lord already knew of the young Auror, who he'd actually come to respect. She possessed both of Slytherins key traits, after all; ambition and cleverness, and plenty of charm to conceal both. Of course, there was something oddly familiar about her to, he hadn't been able to place... "I do not know, milord, I have not researched her career…"

"She is, my lord." The voice of Lucius Malfoy came from behind him.

"Ah, yes, Lucius," Voldemort nodded, "I trust you have been following her movements?"

"At your command, my lord. She has turned aside all cases not related to Potters, and currently has her workforce hard at work on the case."

"What cases are connected to it?"

"The death of Antonin Macnair is the only one, my lord."

"Ah yes," the Dark Lord frowned, "then perhaps we should leave her to her work for the time being, if only to find out what happen to our young associate." He nodded, "I trust Dumbledore will soon notice your absence, Severus, you may go, return when you have more to report."

Snape bowed, silently seething at Malfoy's actions. He would have to tell Albus of this, perhaps the Headmaster could warn Potier of the Dark Lords interest. He'd known she was a highly respected Auror and was known for her skill in dueling, he hadn't known that skill had come from executing Death Eaters.

As he was departing, he couldn't hear Malfoy's report, but he heard the Dark Lords responses.

"Very well, I want you to keep an eye on the young protégé; discern her weaknesses and strengths. Find out if she knows anything more of that she hasn't informed the Muggle-lover of…"

Malfoy was talking quietly.

The Dark Lord continued, "Yes, I understand she is dangerous. If you should find an opportunity to remove that threat, exploit it… Yes, you may go Lucius, keep me informed."

Not bothering to repress a grimace, Severus Apparated into an ally in Hogsmeade, removed his mask, and then made his was back to Hogwarts, to report.

~ * ~

Vivian shook her head and stopped outside of a door that looked rather old, even in comparison to its practically ancient surrounding, and turned the ancient gold and silver doorknob, giving the door a slight nudge. That nudge was all that was needed for the door to open on it's own, admitting the two wizards. 

Harry followed his sister into the room. It was a rather large room, and obviously meant for training in various forms of combat. There were black mats on the floor in one of the far corners of the room, there was a table and two chairs in the other far corner, several weapon racks all around the room, a few bookcases were along the wall nearest them, and all of the walls bore mirrors. He jumped when he felt a rush of air from behind him and turned in time to see the door shut on its own.

He turned to his sister, eyes a little wider than usual. 

Vivian chuckled, "You'll find that the Manor can and does do many things of its own accord, I know it may seem odd, but many old Wizarding estates are like that. It's wonderfully helpful, and it makes life so much easier to just tell the Manor to change shape, rather than walking through many winding corridors."

Harry blinked, "Is that how you can move through the Manor so quickly?"

"Yes," she nodded, "It obeys the commands of its family..." she sighed, "had you been raised here, you'd find it was almost second nature to you. As you become more and more comfortable here... when you truly feel that the Manor is your _home_, or at least one of them, it will come naturally."

He nodded, "That makes sense..."

After a moment, Vivian smiled again, "Now, shall we begin?" she asked, raising an eyebrow and gesturing to the room around them.

Harry nodded again, "What exactly are we going to do?" he asked, looking around, fighting to hold back a gulp as he noticed the well kept, sharp blades that adorned the weapon racks. 

Vivian gave a quiet laugh, "I'm going to be teaching you a wide variety of things this summer. I obviously can't turn you into a full-fledged Auror over the summer; I have no doubt you will one-day reach that level, that takes _years_. However, I can train you well enough to ensure that you are capable of defending yourself and others with reasonable proficiency, and give you some ability in dueling, at least enough to survive a duel without relying on luck. We will of course cover curses and counter curses, but we will also be working on martial arts, some weaponry, I may introduce you to some of that elemental magic's, and maybe some wandless magic, as well as healing techniques and spells."  
  
"Martial arts... and weaponry?" Harry repeated, and frowned, "I thought Wizarding duels were always with wands..."

"Yes," Vivian nodded, "they are. But that doesn't mean you shouldn't receive training in other areas as well, there are some magical techniques and spells that apply to martial arts and weaponry, the fighting arts are good to know. In situations where you aren't supposed to use magic, it's nice to know you're not completely helpless, and furthermore, many of the techniques in Wizarding dueling correspond to many techniques and styles in martial arts, and fencing.... We will train a little every day, and I expect you to practice daily. The phrase 'practice makes perfect' is all too true in these arts. You really have to train your body to be familiar with the moves and techniques to be any good in combat, and that means continual repetition..." she raised an eyebrow, "with me so far?"

Harry nodded, "Yeah... but... doesn't it take years of training to be any good at any of the Muggle fighting arts, too?"

"Yes," she nodded, "and no. To be an actual martial artist, you'd have to train for at least a decade, probably longer... and I couldn't teach you, I'm good enough, but not that good. You just want to be good enough to feel comfortable with the techniques... You need to learn how to defend and attack without your wand. The vast majority of witches and wizards rely solely on their magic for fighting. That, is foolhardy, for lack of a better word." 

"But–" Harry stopped, "sorry..."

Vivian raised an eyebrow, one corner of her mouth twitching slightly, "But...?"

"If they all depend on just magic... it can't be all bad... can it?"

She laughed, "Certainly not. But it never hurts to be a better fighter than your opponent, and I said the 'vast majority', not *all* of the Wizarding population is that naive."

"Who else is trained in Muggle fighting arts?"

"Many Death Eaters are," Vivian thought a minute. "And I know for a fact that the Lucius Malfoy is highly skilled swords master, and Draco has been studying the art for quite some time... Professor Dumbledore supposedly studied Muggle combat in his youth, as well."

Harry stared at her for a moment, before blinking. "M-Malfoy's a swords master?"

"Um-hmm," she nodded, taking a staff off the wall and tossing it to him, "Let's see how good your reflexes are."

Harry blinked, "What'd you – Whoa!" he finished, bringing the staff up in front of him to block hers a few spare inches from his face.

"Not bad…"

~ * ~

Vivian glanced up when an owl flew into her study, landing on the provided perch. It was the same owl from a few nights previous. She quickly relieved it of its burden, then gave a mouse to the exhausted bird and waved her want to refresh the water dish before sitting down again. 

Once again she deactivated the same silver seal and read the same elegant script.

She was frowning by the time she'd finished, the news certainly wasn't unexpected, but it was sooner then she would've liked.

Before she could think more of it, one of the paperweights on her desk, a small, beautiful crystal globe, emitted a bright flash of green light, before dimming to a soft green light.

She was immediately on her feet, hurrying to her brother's room. She knew this vision would disturb him greatly, if it were of the meeting she'd just read of. 

And she knew it was a vision. That was the point of the globe; to tell her when her brother was disturbed in his rest. 

Red indicated a nightmare, like last night's.

Green indicated a vision, like tonight's and the night prior to the last. 

~ * ~

Another meeting of the Order of the Phoenix began as Albus Dumbledore rose to his feet, moments after Snape had hurried in, looking somewhat uneasy.

"I will begin this meeting by informing you all that; no, no more progress has been made on the search for young Mr. Potter. We are still searching, and praying, I ask you to do the same." The old wizard murmured, his bright eyes serious; their usual good-humored twinkle missing, his face grave. "That said, do any of you have anything to report? Severus, I understand you have just returned from a meeting with the Dark Lord. I am glad you were able to join us. Do you have anything to report of Voldemort's plans?"

"The Dark Lord has no idea as to Mr. Potter's whereabouts, and is currently just as lost as we are…" Severus frowned, uncertain of whether or not he should add this now, or inform the Headmaster later, in private.

"Yes, Severus?" the Headmaster prompted, "Is there something else?"

Snape sighed, "The Dark Lord also seems to have gained an interest in Miss Potier, as she is responsible for a substantial decrease in his followers, and is a significant to the search."

This news disturbed more than a few members of the Order. Almost everyone there knew Vivian in some form or another. The Aurors and other Ministry officials knew her as a respected colleague and an enjoyable companion. The Professors knew her as a brilliant young Auror, who seemed to be the only one making any progress in finding Potter. The Weasleys frowned for similar reasons.

"That is a problem," Dumbledore agreed, frowning, "Do you know what he plans in that regard?"

"Wait, for the moment." Severus replied, "I only managed to pick up so much of the conversation, as I was dismissed, but I believe he told Malfoy to keep an eye on her; and kill her if an opportunity presents itself."

**_End of Chapter 3._**

**AN: Well, that's it for Chapter 3! What'd you think? I'm sorry about the wait! And I hope you liked it! Let me know!**

**Responses to:**

**Hp lovar** – LOL, yes that was a rather amusing image, wasn't it. LOL... that won't be Petunia's last confrontation with the house elves... she doesn't like them... if you keep following the story you'll find out why (the next time she's fighting with them). I'm glad you like the story so far... You reviewed LS (Lady Serenity) recently, didn't you? Good luck with Japanese. I plan on updating this weekend, if the chapter cooperates... which it hasn't been for awhile, but I think I can manage. Anyway, Arigato gozaimasu (thank you) for reading! How was this chapter? ^_^

**Trickster Jaina Fel** – Don't worry, will see more confrontations between Petunia and the house elves. And yes, Vivian is pretty well connected, isn't she? I'm glad you like the story so far, sorry about the wait. ^_^

**Phenixrising** – Thank you ^_^, I'm sorry about the wait.

**Rachel A. Prongs** – LOL, yes, that pretty much summed everything up, didn't it? ^_^

**AirElemental101** – ^_^ Thank you, I'm glad you liked it, and I'm glad to hear it. Yes, I know I left a blank for Professor Sprout's first name; I don't know what it is! I couldn't find it _anywhere_! Not in the books _or_ online! L Do you know it? Well, even if you don't, I'm glad you mentioned it. I know that error can be made a lot when you hurry through something, and I know that if I had made that mistake, I really would have appreciated the notice. Thanks.

**Xirleb70** – Thank you, I'm glad. ^_^ Sorry for the wait.

**LadyD** – *blink* *blink* LOL, that's quite possible... hmm... I'll have to make note of that. Thanks for reviewing! And sorry about the wait. ^_^ Thank you

**Thank you all for reviewing! ^_^**

**Translations:**

**Consanguina - related by blood (Latin)**

**Ignigena(e) - born of fire (Latin) [AN: It's basically a spirit born of fire and magic, bound as a servant to it's creator. It fades out of existence the moment either the magic is withdrawn or the fire is extinguished, as it needs both to survive.]**

**Convertere – to change, alter; of books - to translate (Latin)**

**Quam Abe Conficio - How To Make**

**Bye! ^_^**

**~ Jess S**


	5. Chapter 4: Changes, Shopping & Talking

Disclaimer: I own the plot, I apologize if it's been done before. Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.

~...~ = In French

... = English with French accent

{...} = Translations (I don't speak French, I'm either relying on my parents, friends or (usually) an online translator, so I apologize for any inaccuracies.)

AN: Hi! 

This is an edited version of Chapter 4. I'd like to thank Mariko-Chan for her assistance with the French dialogue. I really do appreciate it. Merci! ^_^

Real AN at the end! Enjoy!

****

Consanguina 

by Jess S

Chapter 4: Changes, Shopping and Talking

Over the course of the next few weeks, Harry's days followed the same general pattern. First, he would wake up late and have tea with his 'new' family. Then he would train with Vivian if she was there that day; or study in the library if she wasn't. Supper was usually in the informal dining room (instead of the formal dining room or the dining hall). Afterwards, he and Vivian would train for a short training period if they hadn't trained earlier, and he'd studying then if they had. Then he'd go to sleep, wake up from nightmare or vision, and be sung back to sleep by his older sister; who still never inquired as to what either was about, but always seemed to know what to say for the occasion. 

Now, all of these weeks of rather intense physical and magical training had taught him a number of things. 

Before going through the countless exercises and stretches his sister had taught him; he was even more flexible than before, and a lot faster. Of course, that was only had adjusted to these workouts; for the first two weeks, and some of the third he had difficulty moving as he was introduced to some muscle he didn't even know he had; and they didn't like it one bit! He was stiff and sore _every_ morning, and it was only after he stopped complaining of it that Vivian gave him a tonic to take twice a day; before bed and every morning – it helped a great deal; getting out of bed was no longer a torture. 

Now, as well, it was noticeable that he _had_ some muscles, they were barely noticeable, but they were there. And he was a lot stronger, or, at the very least; his endurance level had risen up several notches. 

Also; he'd faced two effects of puberty; a cracking voice and a growth spurt! 

Now, his voice was slightly deeper; he didn't mind that, he was just glad his voice wasn't cracking all the time! It'd gotten bad enough in his second week of training that Vivian had given him another potion, to speed it along. Of course, he hadn't listened to her directions, well, actually, he _had_, he just hadn't interpreted them correctly. She'd said to take a dose every morning, and half whenever it got to the point of not being able to speak. He'd figured that meant if he kept taking the potion, the cracking would go away… so he drank the whole bottle…

And hadn't been able to speak for a week…

Of course, the combination of the growth spurt and the slightly improved muscular stature ensured that the majority of his clothes didn't fit. He hadn't grown much… only about an inch and a half, but his pants were at least that short, and his shirts and cloaks were tight at the shoulder line. Most of the clothes Vivian had given them fit fine; they were costly Wizarding brands designed for teenage boys; they grew with him, but everything he'd owned previously, and all of the Muggle clothes she'd given him, didn't fit.

When asked, Vivian had shaken her head, stating that she didn't know any of the charms that could be used to adjust someone else's clothes… _without_ damaging them. She could adjust her own on assignments, or change them, but that was because her robes were made of spell-silk, an extremely expensive Wizarding material that was made to hold spells.

So… they were going shopping… in London…

How they were going to manage this was beyond him. He knew he needed the new clothes, the robes he was wearing; black over black pants and a close-fitting green middy, were one of the few things that still fit him. But, the robes meant they were going to a Wizarding shopping center, and, to top it off; as far as Harry could tell; they _were_ going to Diagon Alley, and – it didn't matter how much he _had_ changed – everyone in the Wizarding World *always* recognized him! Mainly because of his damned scar… He'd tried hiding it; but all the charms he'd tried hadn't work, he'd even tried some of his aunt's concealer, and that hadn't worked either! 

"Ready to go, Harry?"

He turned, smiling up at his aunt; dressed in one of the many elegant dresses she'd taken to wearing since coming here, "I guess…" he shook his head, "I don't know how she expects to pull this off."

Petunia smiled, "Don't worry about it. I'm sure she has something planned."

"Of course I do..."

They both glanced up at Vivian, who was clad in regal black robes with both gold and silver embroidery, over a striking jade green dress; which had pearls embroidered into the shoulder-line, bodice, waist and hem-line.

She smiled, descending to them. When she reached the bottom of the steps, she handed Harry a phial that contained a clear liquid; which he assumed was some type of Potion. "Drink this."

Harry looked at the phial; trying to tell what it was, but he couldn't see any difference between the potion and water. He glance up at both expectant faces, "Wha–"

"Now."

He sighed, uncorking the top and taking it in a single gulp.

"Alright," Vivian smiled, walking over to the front entrance, "let's go." She said, walking through the doorway; the doors had opened on their own.

Petunia followed her, and Harry, after blinking several times, ran to catch up.

He quickly jumped in the back of the white limousine that was waiting. "What happened?" he demanded, looking at his sister, who was sitting calmly across from him.

"Pardon?" she replied.

"What did the potion _do_?"

"Oh, nothing yet." She shrugged, "You do have to digest it first, you know."

"But–" Harry shook his head, knowing he'd probably find out soon enough. He sighed, "How are we going to do this?"

"Hmm?" Vivian glanced at him, "Oh, you mean go into Diagon Alley?"

Harry nodded.

"You'll be going as my brother." 

He blinked, "But… what about my scar? And what if we run into someone I know? They me from the way I talk! No matter how much we change my appearance!"

"Oh trust me," the witch chuckled, "there's no chance of that." She glanced at him, "You know, you should be able to see better without your glasses."

"What?" Harry blinked (again). His vision had been growing steadily blurrier over the last few minutes; but he was as blind as a bat without his glasses!

With a sigh, Vivian rolled her eyes, and snatched his glasses off his face.

Harry blinked, "I can see!"

~ * ~

"Coming, father!" Draco Malfoy called, hurrying down the grand staircase, to the entrance hall of the Malfoy Manor, where his father was waiting with only just concealed annoyance. "Sorry."

Lucius nodded before sweeping through the entrance way down to the waiting limousine. 

~ * ~

"So... How long does this last?" Harry asked, gesturing to his eyes.

"Somewhere in the range of a month." Vivian smiled, "and if you decide you like being able to see without glasses, I can always give you more of the potion."

Harry nodded, "Thank you..." then, he frowned. "Why didn't anyone suggest this to me? I've been in the Hospital Wing enough, and one time was actually because I needed my glasses fixed."

"They didn't recommend it, because they didn't know it existed."

Harry blinked, "What...?"

"The potion was invented by one of my closest friends. She's also a member of my department, only she, myself, and a select few among the members of my department are aware of its existence."

"Why?" Harry shook his head, "Why not tell people?'

"Believe it or not, Harry... Magic doesn't have a cure for everything." Vivian shook her head, "Sorcerers of all kinds have been looking for antidotes to many problems for quite some time... inaccurate eyesight among them... now, it does of course stand to reason, that we should tell everyone that we have that solution... but we're _Aurors_." She shook her head again, this time sadly. "You discover, rather early on in our profession, that every advantage you have is a blessing... The fact that no member of my department needs glasses, while some of our enemies do, gives us an upper hand, and that hand, however small it may be, it is still an advantage."

"Why?"

"You may not have thought of it before... but, if you're glasses fell off during a duel, where would you be?"

Harry blinked, "I'd lose."

"Right," she nodded, "and, in the case of Aurors and dueling, that would mean you're dead. We're trained to look for weaknesses, and we don't like having them."

"But..." Harry shook his head, "I've dueled before... I even – kind of – dueled against Voldemort a few months ago, and my glasses never fell off..."

"Yes, but, there's always the possibility." She smiled, somewhat darkly, "You know one of the summoning charms, don't you?"

"Accio?" Harry nodded, "yes."

"If you dueled against a member of my department while wearing glasses, that would be one of the first spells they'd use against you... If you were caught by an enemy, if they have a brain, they'd take you're glasses away, to make it all the more difficult for you to escape... Death Eaters would probably use it as a way of torturing, or at least to frighten you." The Auror raised an eyebrow, "Understand?"

Harry nodded, still frowning. "Yes... It makes sense..."

"I suppose that that isn't the only thing that is bothering you?"

After a moment, he nodded, "How are we going to do this?" He asked, "I mean, I know I look a little different; I'm a little taller and more muscular, the robes I'm wearing are quite a bit more expensive than what people are used to seeing me in, and no one's ever seen me without my glasses, but..."

"I think you may be underestimating how much you've changed, Harry." Vivian replied softly, "But yes, that scar does make you stand out a bit, doesn't it?"

The Boy-Who-Lived nodded, grimacing slightly.

"Not to worry," she nodded, smiling softly, "We'll be stopping in to see a close friend of mine to begin with. She'll take care of that, and – in the off chance we run into someone more liable to recognize you than the common wizard, she'll take care of you're hair, too."

"My hair?" Harry blinked, "What's she going to do to my hair?"

~ * ~

"Father?"

Lucius Malfoy didn't glance at his son as he replied, "Yes, Draco?"

"Why do we have to go back to school shopping so early?"

Now, the elder Malfoy did turn his head slightly, not replying.

"I mean... there's nothing _wrong_ with that..." Draco came close to stuttering, "I just found it rather... peculiar..."

"Hmm... I suppose it is," he allowed, "Nonetheless, I may be quite preoccupied for the duration of the summer, now is the only time I know I have free. So we will get it out of the way now." Lucius Malfoy looked at his son, "Is there a problem with that, Draco?"

"N-no, Father, none at all." Draco replied hurriedly, barely restraining a sigh of relief when the elder wizard's silver gaze left him.

~ * ~

Harry stared at the mirror, "How... how did you do that?!"

Both witches laughed.

"Ria has always been quite an expert in comportment." Vivian replied with a smile for both her startled brother, and her friend and colleague; Riatanya Willow.

"Yes well, the potential has to be there to begin with..." Ria smiled, "I'd say there was plenty there, myself."

Harry blushed slightly, still staring at his reflection. 

Now was a moment he'd never thought would come.

It had taken the strawberry-blonde witch less than a half an hour to do what he'd been trying to do for years.

His hair – his stubborn, atrocious, and bloody hair, which had never been capable of _any_ semblance of order – was now behaving itself...

Would wonders never cease?

Granted, he had no idea what it was she'd put into his hair... but... why ask?[AN: Right, right, I personally would want to ask what was in any potion a witch or wizard put in my hair!... As long as I knew they didn't dislike me...]

"Don't look so surprised, Harry," Vivian smiled. "Ria is, after all, a professional with this type of thing... and she's had some practice."

Harry looked at her. He'd really never thought it possible that anyone could have hair as unmanageable as his. "Who'd she practice on?"

"Hmm...? Oh," Vivian laughed, "Well, she's the one everyone sees before any assignments involving espionage. But, I'd say she had plenty of practice with me."

Harry blinked, and stared at her. Vivian's hair was always perfect – just as she herself always seemed perfect – never a strand out of place.

Vivian looked at his expression, and laughed, "I have Father's hair too, Harry. You should see the oils and lotions I put in it to get it to behave." She shook her head, then glanced at her smiling friend, "What about the scar?"

"_That_," Ria sighed, "is a bit more complicated..." she shook her head, "Give me an hour." 

~ * ~

The Leaky Cauldron looked much like it always did, rather dark and shabby. Tom, the quite bald, and pleasant bartender turned with his customary smile as he heard the door open. "Good morning," he stopped for a moment, paling slightly, before continuing, his voice very respectful, "Mr. Malfoy... Would you like you're usual?" 

"No, thank you," Lucius replied smoothly, seeming completely unfazed by the slightly apprehensive silence his arrival had wrought. "Draco and I are just passing through."

"Ah... yes, of course," Tom looked down, nodding with a slight smile for the younger blonde, "Good morning to you as well, Mr. Malfoy."

Draco nodded, his expression blank.

Lucius barely raised an eyebrow before moving onward, through the quickly parting, clearly intimidated crowd, Draco trailing swiftly behind him. As they reached the end of the bar, the Lucius pushed the door to the small, walled courtyard open with the end of his snake staff, before turning back to the crowd, "Good day to you."

"Y-yes, good day to you, as well, sir." Tom's hurried reply was the only thing that broke the silence.

The elder Malfoy nodded before spinning on his heel and entering the courtyard, his costly silk robes billowing out behind him, as his son followed in his wake.

Slowly, the tension dissipated from the room, after many people heaved a deep sigh of relief.

~ * ~

"Là!" {There!} Ria smiled, "Fini!" {Finished!}

Vivian eyed her younger brother's forehead critically, before stepping back with a smile for her obviously nervous sibling. "Oui, c'est parfait." {Yes, it's perfect.} She nodded to her friend, "Merci, mon amie." {Thank you, my friend.}

The blonde nodded, smiling at both of them. "Think nothing of it. Now," she grinned wickedly, "I believe you have some shopping to do?"

"Oui." Vivian smiled, "I'm sure Aunt Petunia's dying to get going by now."

As his sister dragged him to his feet, Harry couldn't help but continue staring at his reflection. 

His scar... his accursed stamp of fame within the Wizarding world... was gone...

Completely... **_gone_**...

It was like it'd never been there!

Oh, he knew that under several layers of peculiar make-up, glamours and anti-glamour-shields, Voldemort's mark (for that's what it truly was, even more so than the dark mark every Death Eater bore) was still there... but... for the moment...

He felt.... He was... _free_...

Free of the responsibility...

Free of the expectations....

Free of the _pain_...

For now... he was free... 

~ * ~

"Hurry up, Draco," Lucius Malfoy ordered quietly, watching their surroundings. "We don't have all day."

"I'm sorry, Father." Draco replied hurriedly, dumping the books he needed for school into the small bag he carried, which automatically sent them to the Manor. He didn't want to anger his father. For some time now, he'd been almost nice to be around. 

At least the elder Malfoy wasn't angry all the time anymore... 

Draco held back a shudder at _that_ memory. He could remember that as he was growing up, his father had become increasingly violent. The beginning of the summer after second year had been the worst. For the whole week after Draco had returned from school, and, from what he could tell, for some time before, Lucius had been in a fury. Everyone was afraid of him. Narcissa had made as many excuses as possible to get out of the house, even going so far as to take Draco to see his grandparent's a month early. 

They hadn't wanted to come home when they'd learned that the day right after their departure, the Manor had been subject to _another_ Ministry raid. (Draco had truly hated the Weasleys then, it was one of the few times that he felt right in hating the Weasle more than Potter, as their father had probably only made things worse.) They hadn't wanted to leave the sanctuary of his mother's childhood home, figuring Lucius would only be in and even darker mood when they returned.

Instead, when they'd returned to the Manor a month and a half later, stepping into the entrance hall with no small amount of carefully concealed anxiety. They had been quite shocked to find everything still there and in one piece. Usually the 'legal hooligans' tore everything apart trying to find something – _anything_ – to arrest them on. 

But only silence met them. A hollow, empty silence. In a hollow, empty home. 

They had been more than a little surprised to hear from the house elves, that the lord of the Malfoy Manor had in fact been away for quite some time. 

They hadn't known when he'd left, which was strange, seeing as the house elves were generally aware of **_everything_** that happened within their area, and could only rely on the messages they'd received from him over those few weeks.

From reading the short, cool messages, which included the ones the house elves had been instructed to pass on to them, Draco and his mother had theorized that he had indeed left with the Aurors, but he hadn't been arrested, or charged with anything. And it sounded like something, which was some how connected to the Dark Lord, had caught his attention and held it for some time. 

He hadn't returned until a week before Draco was due back at school, just in time to take him shopping. 

The Lord of the Manor hadn't said anything in reference to his prolonged absence – with the exception of a brief inquiry as to how their visit to his in-laws had been, and how the two were doing – and both Draco and his Mother knew better than to ask. 

But, the strange thing was, when he'd returned... he wasn't angry anymore. He was just cold, and distant... like he always was in public...

At the time, Draco had just shrugged it off, figuring his father had found something to exert his suppressed rage upon, and no longer needed to restrain is, as it was already gone. But, sometimes he wondered...

"Are you done yet, Draco?"

Draco jumped in surprise, to see his father only a step away from him, eyeing him with what – had it been any other man – Draco would've thought was amusement. "Y-yes, Father."

"Good," Lucius nodded, spinning on his heel, "I just contacted your Mother. We will be meeting her at Hecates." 

~ * ~

"Oh my." Aunt Petunia blinked when they entered the car. Closing the romance novel she'd been reading. She smiled, "You look wonderful, Harry."

Harry blushed slightly, "Thank you, Aunt Petunia."

"Now," Vivian smiled, "we need one more thing, to make this unquestionable."

"Wouldn't it be easier if we said I was a cousin, or something?" Harry asked her nervously, "I mean, aren't we pushing our luck just a little bit too much with this?"

"Actually, no," Vivian shook her head. "You see, it's always easier to tell a lie that isn't far from the truth," she shrugged, "it leaves less room for slip-ups. And, everyone knows I have a little brother. Only a select few know that that brother is you. But everyone knows I have a brother. The spell that protects my identity will overlap with any reference to my family. By saying you're my brother, the spell automatically covers you, people won't really be _able_ to doubt it. It wouldn't be quite as strong if we really lied, and said you were my cousin."

"Oh..." Harry blinked, and shook his head. "But... if I'm you're brother..."

"Yes?"

"Shouldn't I be able to..."

Vivian raised an eyebrow. "Speak French?"

Harry nodded, "Everyone thinks we're French, right?" he shook his head, "But I can't speak French! I can't even pull off the bloody accent!"

Vivian laughed.

Harry looked at her, "What?" he demanded, barely restraining a glare. "I don't like accents! That's the hardest part of Charms class! Getting the bloody Latin accent right!"

She smiled slightly, "Don't worry, I've got that all taken care of... *_Bilinguis inadfecta et du Français_*." She annunciated, waving her wand quickly before pointing it directly at his throat.

Harry blinked as a gold and silver bubble came out of the end of her wand and floated up to his mouth, he gaped at it, unknowingly leaving his mouth open. It quickly went into his mouth and he could feel it go straight down his throat. 

He gasped and gulped several times, struggling to breath normally, before he finally managed to gasp out, "Qu'as-tu fait?!" {What'd you do?!} he blinked. "Qu'est-ce que–!?!" {What the–!?!}

"Je pense que ceci prend soin de tout." {I think that takes care of everything.} Vivian smiled. She tapped the overhead light with her wand, saying "*_Harrods_*," it flashed, and the limousine moved onward once again. 

~ * ~

Harry shook his head a short time later, as the limousine stopped in front of the Leaky Cauldron. They'd left Aunt Petunia at Harrods, which Harry remembered was the biggest Muggle store in London. Vivian had told her that they'd pick her up just before five, and had then handed her a small purse, which she'd said contained a thousand pounds in cash and three unlimited credit cards. Harry himself hadn't been sure giving his aunt three unlimited credit cards was a good idea, and had said as much when they were driving away from the store. 

In reply, Vivian had just shrugged and said, "How much could she spend in one day?"

At that, Harry had found himself staring at her in disbelief, just as they reached the Leaky Cauldron.

He didn't know for sure, but he was almost positive that this car had to be one large enchantment. Mainly because he didn't think the Leaky Cauldron was only a minute away from Harrods, but, he could be wrong.

"Venez, 'Arold" {Coming, Harold?} he heard Vivian call pleasantly.

"Oui," he sighed. From what Vivian had explained to him, the spell she'd cast was used to make him fluent in French in a very short amount of time. For now, he'd have to struggle to speak English, although he'd have no trouble understanding either English or French, he'd have a heavy French accent when he did manage to speak in English. But, by next week his English should be back to normal, while it would seem like he'd become fluent in French in less than a week. [AN: You know, that'd be **_really_** nice for Spanish class...]

Of course, that didn't stop him from being nervous as the door to the Wizarding pub swung open just as they reached it, and as Vivian strode confidently forward, he followed, more than a little anxious. 

~ * ~

For the second time that morning, the Leaky Cauldron went silent. 

There was a difference this time, though. 

Smiling faces and waves greeted the young Auror who entered the pub, no one noticed the teenage boy a step behind her.

"Ah, Vivian!" Tom smiled, "Good morning to you!"

"Good morning to you to, Tom." Vivian smiled charmingly.

"How are you? 'Care for anything?" he asked.

"Fine, and no thank you." Vivian smiled, "Just passing through. I thought it time I brought my brother to Diagon Alley."

Several people blinked, suddenly noticing the bright-green-eyed, raven-haired boy behind her.

"Your brother?" Tom smiled, "Ah, this is the young man we've heard so much about?"

Vivian nodded, still smiling.

"Bless me, so we finally get to meet him!" Tom chuckled, shaking his head, "I was beginning to think he didn't exist!"

Vivian chuckled, shaking her head, "Oh, he's real, but I'm afraid he's still having a little difficulty with English, so he won't be able to say much."

"Ah, pity that." Tom shook his head, but smiled down as the young man nonetheless. "Bonjour, Monsieur Potier, bienvenue au Leaky Cauldron." {Good morning, Mr. Potier, welcome to the Leaky Cauldron.}

Harry nodded, "Bonjour Monsieur, merci." {Good morning sir, thank you.}

Vivian flashed another brilliant smile, "Well, we'd best be on our way, don't want to take up too much of your time."

The crowd parted for them as well, but this time there was little fear in its parting, only quite content, and something akin to awe.

"Au revoir!" {Good bye!} Vivian called over her shoulder, just as the door to the small courtyard slammed shut.

~ * ~

Harry smiled, finally willing himself to relax in the familiar surrounding. Diagon Alley hadn't changed much since last summer. Of course, it hadn't changed much since the first time he saw it, either. The Wizarding world seemed to be like that... 

Maybe that was why he'd always felt at home within its psychic borders, even felt more than a little ostracized by the attention his scar brought him. It had been nice, at first; being famous, even if it was for something he could barely remember... But it had gotten old, fast; _very_ fast.

They had passed the cauldron shop a short while ago, he hadn't paid much attention to the sign that'd always hung there, even though it looked like it had a new coat of paint, stating that "Cauldrons – All Sizes" and various types were for sale. The tidy, if somewhat gloomy Apothecary, which now sold dragon liver at twenty sickles an ounce, still stood not far from "Eeylops Owl Emporium". Right across from the emporium was the broom shop, which was actually still selling the year-old Firebolt, with a sign stating that a new prototype was on the way. All the shops looked the same, and sold the same things; robes, though they didn't look as nice as the ones at Madame Malkin's, telescopes, sneekoscopes, spell books at Flourish and Blotts, some others of more specific arts in there respective stores. 

"Ah, nous y voilà." {Ah, here we are.}

Vivian's pleasant voice reached him, though he wasn't entirely sure how, what with all the noise of the other shoppers, and he turned toward her, to see her going into Madame Malkin's, and quickly followed. 

~ * ~

"Father?"

Lucius cocked his head slightly, to show he was listening.

"Could we make a quick stop at the vault?" Draco requested, "I'm running low."

After a moment, the elder blonde nodded, "Very well," he allowed, changing his direction for Gringotts.

~ * ~

"Thank you, Madame." Vivian nodded to the sales witch as the older woman began going through her stock.

"Oh it's no trouble!" Madame Malkin argued, "Seeing as schools about to start up soon! I know I'll be buried by this time next week."

Vivian laughed, "Well, if it's any consolation," she offered a slight smile, "they only go back to school once a year... Now, if you'll excuse me, I have other business to attend to, I trust that," she said, gesturing to the large sack of galleons she'd just placed on the counter, "that will cover all expenses."

"Oh, you'd needn't leave that much, that's _far_ more than enough–"

"He literally needs a whole new wardrobe, Madame," Vivian shook her head, "I don't want to miss anything. Please do your best to see him properly attired, and keep the change."

"Oh... well, very well then..." Madame Malkin shook her head, "Thank you, Miss?"

"Vivian," Vivian replied, "Vivian Potier."

Madame Malkin blinked, "I could swear I've heard that name before... wait... aren't you?"

"Some of my work for the Ministry has made the news, yes. Now, I really must be going..."

"Oh, yes! Of course! Good day to you, Miss Potier."

"To you, as well." Vivian nodded, before turning and walking over to where her brother stood on a foot stool, one of Madame Malkin's assistant's pinning up one of his new robes. "Ça va, 'Arry?" {All right there, Harry?} she asked.

"Oui," Harry replied, though his tone bordered on boredom. 

Vivian held back a laugh, "Je dois prendre quelques choses," {I have to pick up a few things,} she told him. "Je te rencontrerai en dehors de de Gringotts dans une demi-heure, okay?" {I'll meet you outside of Gringotts in a half an hour, okay?}

"Oui," Harry sighed, nodding, "Gringotts, une demi-heure, d'accord." {Gringotts, half an hour, right.}

The older Potter shook her head, turning to exit the shop. A few minutes later, she turned off Diagon Alleys brightly painted, sunlit streets, passing into the far darker, gloomier streets that a street sign designated as Knockturn Alley. 

~ * ~

Twenty five minutes later, Harry was nodding his way out of Madame Malkin's, thanking the several sales witches who had assisted him, and smiling at Madame Malkin herself. "Merci, Madame, merci."

"Bienvenue, Harry." {You're welcome, Harry.} Madame Malkin replied, smiling as the polite, and oddly familiar young wizard left the shop. He was a charming lad, really, but she couldn't shake the feeling that she'd met him before. But where? She couldn't place him anymore than she could shake that feeling.

She shook her head, turning to help another customer as the former one turned toward the Wizarding Bank.

~ * ~

Vivian stood at the bottom of Gringotts Bank's white marble steps, thinking. She never liked visiting Knockturn Alley, it wasn't a pleasant place, but she was among the few on the side of the Light who were willing to set foot on those dark streets. Of course, that could be in part due to the fact that she certainly wasn't _entirely_ Light. No, she'd been an Auror for too long to have such illusions.

"Mademoiselle Potier, quelle plaisante surprise." {Miss Potier, what a pleasant surprise.}

Turning, Vivian offered a slight smile, "Lucius," she replied with a nod, "comme c'est agréable de vous revoir." {How nice to see you again.}

Mr. Malfoy nodded, "Enchanté." He glanced around, "Pourquoi êtes-vous ici? Travail?" {Why are you here? Work?}

"No," she shook her head, "Mon frère s'est développé au cours de l'été, il a eu besoin de nouveaux vêtements... Et j'ai pensé qu'il était temps qu'il voit une partie de Londres, vu qu'il en obtient rarement la chance." {My brother grew over the summer, he needed knew clothes... And I thought it time he saw some of London, as he rarely gets the chance.}

The elder Malfoy's silver eyes narrowed slightly, "Ahh," he nodded, "votre plus jeune frère?" {Ahh, your younger brother?}

"Oui," she nodded, "Et vous?" {Yes, and you?} She asked, glancing around, her eyes landing on a younger blonde who bore too close a resemblance to the Wizard in front of her to not be related to him making his way down the steps, before she turned her sharp emerald gaze back to the elder Malfoy.

"Mon fils a fait face à une situation fâcheuse semblable." {My son faced a similar predicament.} Lucius replied smoothly, "Je ne crois pas que vois ayez jamais rencontré mon fils, Draco?" {I don't believe you've ever met my son, Draco?}

Vivian shook her head slightly, "Non, je ne peux pas dire en avoir eu le plaisir." {No, I can't say I've had the pleasure.} she replied.

Lucius nodded, then turned slightly, "Draco!"

Draco hurried down the last few steps to reach them, "Yes, Father?" he asked.

"Je voudrais que tu rencontres Mademoiselle Vivian Potier," {I would like you to meet Miss Vivian Potier,} Lucius said, turning back to her, "Mademoiselle, mon fil; Draco Malfoy." {Miss, my son; Draco Malfoy.}

"C'est un plaisir, Draco," {It is a pleasure, Draco,} Vivian smiled at him, offering her hand.

"Enchanté, Mademoiselle," he replied, taking her hand, changing the angle, and bowing over it.

"Vivian?" Harry came up behind them, and stopped upon seeing whom she was talking to.

"Ah, 'Arold," Vivian smiled putting a great deal of emphasis on the name. "Je ne vous crois pas que tu ais jamais rencontré les Malfoys?" {I don't believe you've ever met the Malfoys?}

Harry blinked, "No, ma soeur." {No, sister.}

"Très bien," {Right,} she nodded, "Voici Lucius Malfoy, et son fils, Draco." {This is Lucius Malfoy, and his son, Draco.} She then nodded to the Malfoys, "Mon frère, 'Arold Potier." {My brother, Harold Potier.}

Harry nodded, "Un plaisir, Messieurs." {A pleasure, sirs.}

"Un plaisir," the elder Malfoy replied smoothly, glancing at his son when he didn't do the same.

Draco was staring at 'Harold' incredulously, "Nous sommes-nous déjà vu?" {Have we met?}

Harry blinked, "Je ne pense pas ainsi, monsieur." {I don't think so, sir.} He replied, looking slightly uncomfortable, before concealing it. "Pourquoi cette question?" {Why do you ask?}

After a moment, the younger Malfoy shook his head, "Vous semblez familier..." {You seem familiar...}

"J'ai peur que vous vous trompiez, Draco." {I'm afraid you must be mistaken, Draco.} Vivian shook her head, drawing the group's attention to herself and away from her brother, "C'est la première fois que j'emmène mon frère à Diagon Alley." {This is the first time I have brought my brother to Diagon Alley.}

Draco blinked, "Oh... oui, naturellement. Pardon." {Oh... yes, of course. Pardon.}

"Naturellement," Vivian nodded, "Maintenant, si vous nous excuserez, je crois qu'il est passé l'heure du déjeuner." {Now, if you'll excuse us, I believe it is past time for lunch.}

Lucius nodded, "Draco et moi étions juste sur notre chemin pour rencontrer mon épouse chez Vera Hecates," {It is, Draco and I were just on our way to meet my wife at Vera Hecates,} he raised an eyebrow, "Vous plaîrait-il de vous joindre à nous?" {Would you care to join us?}

Vivian smiled, "Nous serions enchantés." {We'd be delighted.}

They then turned, Vivian gliding down the street while conversing with the elder Malfoy, Harry himself turned to follow, Draco at his side. 

Now, Harry was certain. This had to be the strangest day of his life. 

End of Chapter 4.

AN: Well, that's it for Chapter 4! Interesting, no? I was going to take you to Vera Hecates, but I finished working on a chapter for one of my other stories, which contained a lot of formal meals and whatnot in it, and I'm honestly sick of writing about that, for now, anyway. 

Response to reviews:

Liberty Belleview – Hi ^_^ 

LOL, you're brother reviewed for you? Hmm... different. Well, don't worry, he didn't say anything offensive. Although you do have to wonder how he managed to get on your Pen name without you're password. You might want to change it. He probably just guessed. I'm glad you like both stories, thank you. And, you're right. Japanese _is_ a cool language. ^_^ 

Pheonixrising (formerly Phenixrising) – Thank you. 

Don't worry, they'll find out soon, but you have to remember, the spell that the Order of the Phoenix screwed up was **_very_** powerful magic; It made the whole world forget Vivian in every aspect of her existence. Everyone knows her now as Vivian Potier, a brilliant and powerful Auror and Ministry Official. The spell ensures that until Voldemort manages to remember, which he will, eventually, they can't make the connection between her and Harry, no matter how obvious it is. 

Hehe, training.... we'll see more of that later too ^_~. 

Thank you, I'm glad you liked it, how was this chapter? I know it was a bit shorter, but it seemed like a good place to end it. Sorry about the wait.

Xirleb70 – Thank you. LOL... He's growing up a bit. ^_~

Jeff – Thank you ^_^

I know what you mean, I usually don't like "new family member" fics either, but this just popped into my head, and I wanted to write it! So, her it is! 

Sorry for making you wait. 

Thank you all for reviewing! ^_^

Translations: (This is only for things that _were**n't**_ translated during the chapter itself.)

Consanguina - related by blood (Latin)

Bilinguis – Having two tongues, or speaking two – or more – languages (Latin)

Inadfecta –Natural (Latin)

Et du Français – and of the French (French)

Vera Hecates – It's the name of a high-class Wizarding restaurant. I can't remember what I got it from.

Oh, by the way. I just thought I'd put in an explanation for why Vivian keeps calling Harry "'Arry" or "'Arold" when they're around other people. Basically, all she's doing is putting a heavy accent on his name, to make it sound less like he might be Harry Potter. His name isn't actually Harold, not at all. That's just what she may occasionally revert to using, to avoid suspicion. 

REVIEW!!! ...please?

Bye! ^_^

~ Jess S


	6. Chapter 5: Talking, Lunch & Papers

Disclaimer: I own the plot, I apologize if it's been done before. Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.  
  
AN: Hi! Real AN at the end! Enjoy!

Consanguina by Jess S

Chapter 5: Talking, Lunch & Papers

Silence reigned throughout the Headmaster's office, it's occupants quietly brooding thoughts remarkably similar. 

After a short time, Dumbledore shook his head, "It is odd," he sighed.

"Odd?" Professor McGonagall shook her head, "It's _ridiculous!_" She sighed, shaking her head again, "How is it that someone could just kill an Auror, walk into the house of the Boy-Who-Lived, and _vanish_. No one is _that_ good! It simply isn't possible... But we haven't found **_anything_**!"

"Vivian's found a lot..." Ginny murmured quietly. 

McGonagall nodded, "For which we all are grateful..." she sighed. "There was one article in the paper on this... none since... and nothing's happened. You'd expect them to at least make some mistake that'd lead to them! But even everything Miss. Potier has found... leads to nothing, with the exception of more questions..."

"I don't get it."

Everyone turned to look at Fred.

"What, dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked.

"How come she keeps finding all this stuff that no one else does?" He asked, "You have people looking all over the place, and even a spy in He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's inner circle, but nothings turned up for you." The redhead shook his head, "What could she possibly have that would make her so much better at this?"

"_Experience?_" Professor Snape suggested, only the slightest hint of sarcasm in his tone.

Arabella nodded, "And she's very well connect. Incredibly well... She's been doing stuff much more difficult then this for years."

"_Years?_" Mrs. Weasley blinked, "How old is she, anyway...?"

"We told you, Mum," Bill spoke up, gesturing to Charlie, "early twenties."

"The definition of that statement is twenty to twenty five years old, Bill."

Arabella laughed, "She's twenty-one."

Nearly everyone in the room blinked, and stared.

"T-tweny-one?" Mrs. Weasley repeated, "Good gracious, I would have at least thought twenty four..."

"Why?" George frowned.

"Because," Mr. Weasley answered for his wife. "She's very successful, and very influential. She's already been nominated for the position of Head of Magical Law Enforcement... twice?" he asked, looking at the senior Aurors.

"Three times," Arabella corrected, "she's very popular."

"How could anyone possibly become that highly ranked in the Ministry in three years?" Professor Flitwick asked, and shook his head, "It is obviously very unorganized under Minister Fudge, but... the initial training alone usually takes at least two years... and then the experience required to even be considered for Head of the Department... I'd think that'd be near a decade... and several stars, I believe."

"Stars?" Ron repeated, blinking.

"It's a reward-system within the Ministry." Professor McGonagall explained patiently, "They're awarded to people who do something of great value and have already obtained an Order of Merlin, First class."

"Yes, well," Arabella nodded, "Vivian's career has been nothing short of... extraordinary, really..."

"Oh?" Dumbledore asked, as everyone waited for her to continue.

"Yes..." Arabella nodded, then sighed, shaking her head. "I suppose I should explain a bit of her history first..." she thought a moment, "Vivian originally began training at home... under the direction of a governess and several tutors.... When she turned ten, her governess, Inès d'Ark, who was also her legal guardian, died, and several of the tutors had already left. Not long before, Madame d'Ark had contacted Madame Maxime, the Headmistress of Beauxbaton, and asked for her to continue Vivian's schooling. Madame Maxime became Vivian's legal guardian until the completion of her magical education... The Headmistress wasn't entirely sure of how to manage Vivian. She was undoubtedly magical, as she'd already received a great deal of training, very intelligent, incredibly clever and extremely driven... and that was when she was ten years old..." the Auror shook her head. "She had Vivian take the O.W.L's, or N.M.O's as the French call them..."

"When she was ten?" Hermione asked, looking stunned.

Arabella nodded, "Yes... just to see how well educated she was..."

"How'd she do?" Ron asked, not particularly liking the subject of OWLs, but curious nonetheless.

Moody laughed, "Came in second place when she was against the whole school. Only the current Head Boy beat her."

Hermione shook her head, "How's that possible...?"

"She'd been training with specialists one-on-one for years," [AN: All of whom, had been part of the Order of the Phoenix, technically.] Arabella shrugged. "Anyway, the results obviously shocked the staff... but after some debate they decided to place her in a higher grade level. So, she started in third year when she was eleven years old."

"Why third?" Fred asked.

"They were actually going to place her higher, but," Arabella said, "I believe she said there were too many tall people in the higher levels... And they were worried about her being able to relate to her peers, which she actually turned out to be rather good at, and the third years happened to be the 'most welcoming' year out of the incoming students, according to the staff."

"Oh..." Hermione nodded, "So she graduated when she was sixteen?" 

Arabella nodded, "Head Girl, top marks–"

"In everything except Flying..." Moody chuckled, gratingly.

"Flying?" Madame Hooch repeated, looking slightly offended

Arabella laughed, "The instructor was fired at the end of her seventh year... He was rather... anti-feminist... didn't think witches should have any place in Quidditch or with broomsticks... and Vivian ended up arguing with him a lot, the only reason he graded her fairly was because the rest of the staff so clearly adored her."

"And she was the Headmistress's ward." Moody added.

"That too," Arabella agreed. "Anyway, she graduated at sixteen, entered the extreme training program immediately afterward, she'd already applied over the school year, and finished the preliminaries over the summer."

"The preliminaries?" Hermione asked.

"The first two months of training," the Auror replied, "must be dedicated to solely training. The following classes can be taken at your leisure. It's set up so that you can still be working a different job well your training."

"What're the preliminaries for, then?" Ron asked, interested, "Why do you have to take them by themselves?"

"It's essentially a test, I believe." Professor McGonagall answered.

"A test?"

Arabella nodded, "Yes," she agreed, "You have to prove that you have sufficient understanding of Magic, then you specialize in one, two, or even three areas, and work." She shrugged, "It cleans out the people who aren't fit for the job, and prepares those who are."

"Cleans out?" Hermione repeated.

"Um-hmm," the Auror nodded, "Eighty percent of the applicants leave or flunk out within the first two weeks."

"Wow..." Hermione blinked, "And what about the ones who don't?"

"They earn their Masters."

"Masters?"

"Yes, their Wizarding Masters. What fields they specialize in." Arabella explained, "There are other ways to receive them, of course, but this is the fastest, if you can handle it."

"What did Vivian study?"

"Vivian received her Masters in; Defense Against the Dark Arts, Potions, and Politics."

Everyone blinked.

"That's... an unusual combination, isn't it?" Mrs. Weasley asked, after a moment.

"Yes, very unusual, and extremely difficult." Arabella shook her head, "She's good at all three, but I still think she picked those three because they'd be the most challenging..." she grinned, "She does stuff like that from time to time. Of course, getting back to the story," the Auror continued, "It's probably why she was stationed so quickly... After she passed the preliminaries, she went through the necessary courses, and, as it happens, all the Professors she wanted to study under, because she'd researched all of them beforehand, all of them held their classes on weekends; leaving her free on every week day." 

~ * ~

Now, if you mentioned having a meal or a drink, while in Diagon Alley, most would turn to the famed Leaky Cauldron. There were a select few, however, who would find that idea quite preposterous. 

Vera Hectates was undoubtedly the finest Wizarding restaurant in London, considered by many to be a place of solely formal dining, for that was indeed the required attire. Of course, it wasn't actually _in_ London, but several of its entrances to it were. One of these entrances was directly off Diagon Alley, so it was there that those who could afford it, chose to dine. 

The high-class restaurant sat atop a small mountain, on its own, unplotable island, with numerous magnificent views, by both balcony and window, all around. As it was always kept in perfect working order, under extreme care, the fine classical marble architecture was quite stunning; an impressive piece of architecture in its own right.

Inside, it was furnished as exquisitely as was possible. Beautiful Persian rugs decorated the floors, stained-glass-windows captured and held light, while still allowing it to pass through, so that the lighting was always quite attractive. Overstuffed, white vinyl sofas were scattered in a seemingly meaningless, yet elegant pattern. Flawlessly polished wood tables bore settings of Wedgewood plates, Waterford goblets, and Towal silver. 

This apparently did little, if anything to impress the lady sitting along the edge of the finely polished bar, by herself. One might consider this strange. For she was in fact, very beautiful. Long, silky pale gold hair was pulled atop her head in an elegant French-twist, and held there by a strand of perfectly matched pearls, leaving her soft, aristocratic features open, decorated only by pale lip gloss and Wizarding mascara. Immaculately manicured nails on long, pale fingers of a small, elegant hand, held the stem of a half-empty crystal goblet of Sauvignon Blanc. Her magnificent form was fitted perfectly by the emerald silk gown she wore, lined with silver and diamonds, which also hung from her ears and her neck.

Narcissa Malfoy frowned slightly, taking another sip of her first glass of and turning her sky-blue eyes to the clock on the other side of the room, before setting the goblet back down on the finely bar. It was strange. Her husband, known for being punctual, was not late, but he wasn't early either. 

She turned slightly, upon hearing the door open again. 

This time, she was not disappointed, though she was surprised. Her husband entered, his elegant silk robes sweeping out behind him, conversing with a young witch at his side. The young lady was very pretty; with long raven black hair pulled back into a simple, but elegant bun, bright green eyes, emphasized by the deep emerald shade of her silk robes, delicate, glossed lips accented by pale skin.

She watched them approach, Lucius had undoubtedly spotted her the moment he stepped in the door (when he scanned the room for any possible threats, as was his habit), she then noticed the Ministry badge on her robes, and, as they neared, that they were talking in French. It clicked.

"Ah! Mademoiselle Potier!" {Ah! Miss Potier!} Mrs. Malfoy nodded in greeting. "Quelle surprise plaisante. Je la prends que vous nous joindrez?" {What a pleasant surprise. I take it you'll be joining us?} she asked, smiling pleasantly. [AN: The Malfoy's are heavily into politics, she'd be just as good with 'the Malfoy Charm' as her husband.]

"Oui, Madame Malfoy," Vivian replied, offering an equally charming smile. "J'espère qui n'est pas un problème?" {I hope that isn't a problem?}

"Non, naturellement pas," {No, of course not,} Mrs. Malfoy replied, "Et si vous plait, appelez-moi Narcissa." {And please, call me Narcissa.}

"Merci," Vivian replied, with a nod. "Je suis Vivian." {I am Vivian.} She then stepped slightly to the side, gesturing to the young, finely dressed wizard beside Draco. "Peux je présenter mon frère, 'Arold Potier?" {May I introduce my brother, Harold Potier?}

Narcissa smiled, and nodded. "Heureux pour vous rencontrer, 'Arold. Je suis Narcissa Malfoy." {Pleased to meet you, Arold. I'm Narcissa Malfoy.}

"C'est un plaisir, Madame." {It's a pleasure, Madam.}

"Mr. Malfoy?"

Lucius turned to the finely dressed maitre d' who stood nervously awaiting his attention. "Yes?"

"Your table is ready, sir."

~ * ~

"What'd she do then?" Fred asked.

"Got a job. As it happens, her DADA Professor; Merveilleux, I think it was, had retired at the end of her seventh year, so Madame Maxime offered her the job."

"She was a DADA Professor?" Ron asked.

"Yes, and according to the current students; a 'bloody good one', for one year. She could very easily have fallen back on it as a career."

Hermione frowned, "I thought all the Beauxbatons students had trouble in DADA... that's what they said during the Tournament."

"Oh they are, the current Professors aren't very good... So everyone going into fifth year and under hasn't learned much unless they memorized their textbooks and worked with the older students... The seventh years had learned the basics from Merveilleux, and the sixth years learned that from Vivian, who also instilled a passion for them in almost all of her students. She was very good, and she gave private instruction to whoever asked for it. Still does, as a matter of fact. Several students from Beauxbaton visit her Manor occasionally to ask for help... That's actually probably why Delacour became the Beauxbaton Champion. She absolutely _adored_ Vivian, and learned a great deal from her." Arabella shook her head, "Anyway, she received her Masters in July, and was in the French embassy, here in London, immediately afterwards."

"Wait," Ron frowned, "she worked for the French?"

"Yes, she was a Beauxbaton graduate, after all." The Auror replied. "She applied for British citizenship, and received it, and transferred into the British Ministry. She's still technically one of their ambassadors, she handles any important conflict between the two of us."

"But how did she reach such a high rank so quickly?" Mrs. Weasley asked. "I wouldn't think it be possible if she was originally a citizen, let alone a foreigner."

"It's the way the Department was arranged." [AN: I need another Auror who can answer questions here! Moody doesn't strike me as the type to do much talking (at all), but I'm starting to feel bad for Arabella!] Arabella continued, "Any Auror can accept 'special assignments' at any given time."

"Special assignments?" George asked.

"Their missions that are particularly difficult, or, more often then not; dangerous, so they ask for volunteers. You handle enough of those and you _have_ to be recognized. She gained a reputation for excellence rather quickly." Arabella shook her head, "she's also, I'm sure you've noticed, _very_ charming, so she became very popular, very quickly." She stopped, blinked, then laughed.

Everyone stared at her.

"What?" Fred and George asked, "What is it?" 

"Nothing, I just remembered an amusing detail in the next part of the story." Arabella shook her head again.

"What is it?"

"Ironically," the Auror replied, "Vivian partially owes the beginning of her advancement, to Professor Dumbledore, and Professor Snape."

Both mentioned blinked.

"Why do you say that?" Dumbledore asked, curious.

"I still remember," Arabella laughed, "I still remember the day she did this... She didn't only take special assignments, she had to take regulars too... Out of curiosity, Professor Snape, are you acquainted with Eric Rosier?" 

Snape blinked, "Yes, he was a school and housemate of mine."

"Yes... but he didn't really like you, did he?"

"No, he did not."

"Yes, well," Arabella shook her head, "apparently, he felt you were still a threat to society, and a loyal Death Eater, despite the results of your trial... he was the Minor Division Head of Vivian's precinct. He knew, and he was right," she nodded, "that if anyone could get anything on you, it was Vivian, so he assigned her the case. She read over the file when she received it, researched some parts of it, went to his office the next day, and flat out refused it." The Auror shook her head, suppressing chuckles, "That was the day I met her."

"What happened?" Ron asked.

"Well," Arabella shook her head, "I was visiting some of my old friends and colleagues that day, and they, of course, had already told me about Potier. Everyone really was, and still is, quite impressed with her..." she smiled, thinking back on it as she told it.

~ FLASHBACK ~

"How old is she, again?" I asked.

"Eighteen," my old friend, Ailith Bode; a witch in her late seventies with shoulder-length white hair and pale green eyes, replied, smiling. "She really is a charming young lady, you should meet her."

"I'd like to, is she in today?"

"I think so... wait, let me check..." as she turned to look on the registry, she stopped and turned back slightly, smiling. "Vivian!" she called, over my shoulder.

I turned to see a lovely girl in her late teens with long-black hair, currently held in a French-twist, stunning green eyes, and a polite, charming smile on delicate lips. 

"Good morning, Ailith," the girl nodded, then smiled at me, "I don't believe we've met." She held out her hand, "I'm Vivian Potier."

"Arabella Figg." I replied, shaking her hand, and noticing she had a firm grip, but not one that was overbearing or overly eager.

"Pleased to meet you," Vivian nodded, still smiling as her brow creased slightly in concentration, "...Figg... Figg... where have I – Oh!" she smiled, "You accepted the task of watching over Harry Potter during your retirement, right?"

I blinked, not many people were aware of that fact, as it could be dangerous if it reached the wrong person, but I couldn't feel the least bit guarded against the charming, young Auror whose bright eyes held mine steadily. "Yes," I confirmed, "I did."

"Admirable," she commented.

I blinked again, "Pardon?"

"That you'd be willing to give up your free time to watch over a child, just to make everyone else here feel better." Vivian explained.

"Oh not really," I argued, "after all, there is always the chance of a Death Eater–"

"It is possible, yes," she agreed, "but no more likely then it is for any other child." Vivian shrugged, "After all, the dark times are supposed to be over. Many of the actual Death Eaters who could find him worked too hard and are too smart to do anything for revenge, any of the ones that are likely to do it are either; dead, imprisoned, or soon will be. None of the ones that could actually manage it, would actually do it." She shook her head, "I'm sorry, I'm rambling, anyway," she smiled, "It was a pleasure to meet you, I hope we meet again. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to talk with my supervisor." She said, and turned on her heel, walking toward Rosier's office.

"Miss Potier?" I called.

She turned back, "Yes?"

"Why do you say that?"

"What...?"

"That the Death Eaters that could harm the Boy-Who-Lived, wouldn't."

Vivian shrugged, "Because they're too smart, it wouldn't bring Voldemort back, so they wouldn't gain anything, except maybe a cell in Azkaban, or the Kiss." She replied, and started to turn away again, "Oh, by the way, please call me Vivian."

"In that case, call me Arabella."

She smiled, "Gladly," and nodded as she turned and walked into Rosier's office, not bothering to close the door.

"I wonder why she's going to see him." Ailith murmured.

"What?" I asked.

"Vivian," she replied, "She generally doesn't bother ever speaking to Rosier directly, doesn't think it's worth her time."

"Hmm," I shrugged, "the doors open..."

Ailith laughed, "We've been at this job too long."

"Of course we have."

She shook her head, and reached into her desk, pulling out a small object and pointed her wand at it, activating it.

Both of us touched it, and a moment later we could hear what was happening inside Rosier's office.

I blinked. The voice I heard was certainly Vivian's, but she didn't sound like the polite, sophisticated young lady I'd just met... if anything she sounded like a spoiled brat.

"No!" she whined, "I will **not** take this assignment, and you can't make me!"

A moment later, Eric Rosier his face livid with rage as he came storming out of his office, dragging Vivian behind him.

We followed.

A few minutes later, he stopped in front of Thomas Fletcher, Major Head of their division.

"Is something the matter?" Fletcher asked, glancing from the red-faced, fuming Minor Head, to the calm and collected Auror beside him.

"This..." Rosier began, pointing at Vivian, "brat is unfit to–"

"Now really, Eric," Fletcher cut him off, "calm down, think about what you're saying."

"I know what I'm saying!" Rosier spat. "She won't take the case I assigned her, won't provide a viable reason, and–"

"Is this true, Miss Potier?" Fletcher asked.

Vivian shook her head, "Not entirely, Mr. Fletcher." She replied, once again the charming young lady I'd met a few minutes prior. "In my opinion there is no case, and to pretend that there is one is illegal – double jeopardy, I believe."

"Oh?" Fletcher replied, clearly interested. "And what is this case?"

"Mr. Rosier seems to think Mr. Severus Snape's, Potions Master and Professor at Hogwarts, trial was inaccurate, and his 'possible remaining loyalty' to Voldemort needs to be investigated further."

Mr. Fletcher frowned, "Yes, I do believe Severus Snape was declared innocent of all charges. Was he not?"

"They didn't do enough–" Rosier began.

"And," Vivian continued, overriding her superior. "I personally find the suggestion of this quite ridiculous."

"How so?" Fletcher asked.

Vivian handed him a file she'd been carrying. "Scribe's notes: Closing Article: thirty-six. After hearing the testimony of Headmaster Albus Dumbledore, the judge ruled that there was no way the accused could be considered guilty of the alleged charges." She shook her head, "Honestly, there are therefore only two ways Professor Snape could be a loyal Death Eater under these circumstances; and both are ridiculous!"

"How so?"

"One possibility is that Snape managed to hoodwink the Headmaster. The other is that the Headmaster himself was protecting an ally." Vivian replied firmly. "In which case, we are saying that Albus Dumbledore is either an old fool, **or** a Death Eater."

"Hmm..." Fletcher nodded, "True..."

~ END OF FLASHBACK ~

Arabella chuckled, "I can still remember the look on Rosier's face when she finished."

"What happened?" Hermione asked.

"Rosier was fired," Moody replied, "Vivian was promoted."

"Just like that?" Hermione asked.

"Um-Hmm," Arabella nodded. "You see, everyone, Mr. Fletcher included, had been following Vivian's accomplishments for quite some time. They were really remarkably impressive. But, more then that." She shook her head, chuckling, "Vivian planned that out rather well."

"Why do you say that?" 

"Mr. Fletcher was a known supporter of the Order of the Phoenix." Arabella replied, "Vivian knew that, and she knew that he would find the point that Albus," she nodded to the Headmaster, "was either a Death Eater or an old fool very offensive."

"Why would he find it offensive?" Fred asked.

"Because," Mr. Weasley replied, "that would mean he'd been following a Death Eater for several years, or an old fool for several years. In which case he'd have to be even more of a fool."

"Quite right." Arabella shook her head, "So Rosier was done for."

The room absorbed this information in silence. 

~ * ~ 

"Vous aiment de l'aide?" {Would you like some help?} Draco asked, observing the other teen's struggle with the menu.

Harry blinked, looking up at him. He didn't really like this spell. It served its purpose, certainly... but now he could barely read anything off the menu! All of the foods were international delicacies, and he could read the names of the French ones, but all the descriptions were in English! He frowned, blushing slightly in an embarrassment. "Si vous plait?" he replied, "Je ne suis pas très bon avec l'anglais..." {I'm not very good with English...}

Draco smiled, "Ne vous inquiétez pas à son sujet, la seule raison que je suis n'importe quel bon au Français étais en raison d'un certain charme mon père utilisé pour m'inciter à l'apprendre rapidement... Un effet secondaire était que j'ai eu la difficulté avec l'anglais tandis que j'apprenais le français, il étais terrible!" {Don't worry about it, the only reason I'm any good at French was because of some charm my father used to make me learn it quickly... A side effect was that I had difficulty with English while I was learning French, it was terrible!}

Harry bit back a wince, and forced a reply out, "Je peux imaginer..." {I can imagine...} he pointed to something on his menu, "Qu'est-ce que c'est?" {What's that?}

The blonde leaned over slightly, scanning the menu quickly before he came to the one the other boy was pointing at. He blinked, "C'est potage de poulet..." {That's chicken soup...}   
  
~ * ~

After a moment, Hermione looked at the clock, and blinked. "It's getting awful late, shouldn't Miss Potier be here by now?"

"No," Arabella replied, "It's her day off, one of the first she's taken willingly…" she thought for a moment, then shook her head, "ever, as far as I can tell."  
  
"_Ever?_" Fred & George repeated.  
  
Arabella rolled her eyes, "Vivian is somewhat of a workaholic…" she sighed.  
  
"She's the most effective Ministry personnel of her generation." Moody pointed out.  
  
"True," Arabella agreed, then chuckled.  
  
"What?" Ron asked, curious.  
  
Arabella shook her head, "I still remember…" she shook her head, then glanced at Moody, "Do you remember the day she argued with Croaker on whether or not she was fit to bring in Dolohov?"  
  
Moody chuckled, a sound that made several of the younger people flinched. "When she'd come directly from the medical ward, after leaving in the middle of the examination, only half an hour after she'd been brought in – unconscious – from the attack on the French Embassy?" He nodded, "Yes, bloody riotous, I thought."  
  
"Why'd she do that?" Hermione asked, "She seemed quite logical to me."  
  
"Oh, she usually is," Arabella nodded, "But she'd never liked Antonin Dolohov, and he'd been a fool enough to boast of his earlier transgressions on several occasions." She shook her head, "Vivian wanted that 'bloody bastard' out of business one way or another. And she wanted to handle him herself, whether she needed to do it with a broken leg, two cracked ribs and a minor concussion, or not."  
  
"So what happened?" Ginny asked, after a moment of silence.  
  
"She brought him in, and was promoted to Vice-Department Head, while in intensive care."  
  
"She actually went back to the hospital?" Ron asked.  
  
"Oh, yes," Arabella nodded. "Vivian is a very sensible person... when she feels that she has the situation under control."

~ * ~

"Ainsi qu'avez-vous été jusqu'à récemment, Vivian?" {So what have you been up to lately, Vivian?} Narcissa inquired, before taking another sip of her first glass of Chateauneuf duPape.

"Je vous crois avais travaillé avec le cas de Potter," Lucius inquired. "Vous ai pas?" {I believe you've been working with the Potter case, have you not?}

"Oui," Vivian nodded, taking a sip from her own crystal goblet. "Oui, je su." {Yes, I am.}

"Une chance, jusqu'ici?" {Any luck, thus far?} Narcissa asked, honestly interested. 

"Très peu," {Very little,} the Auror replied, taking another sip of her dark wine.

"Le plus malheureux," {Most unfortunate,} Lucius replied, then frowned. "J'avais entendu il y avait un Auror tué tandis que sur ce cas... est ce vrai?" {I had heard there was an Auror killed while on this case... is that true?} he asked.

"Pas tout à fait..." {Not quite...} Vivian replied, "Antonin Macnair gardait la résidence de Monsieur Potter le jour où le garçon a disparu. Il était un Auror, et il a été tué." {Antonin Macnair was guarding Mr. Potter's residence the day the boy disappeared. He was an Auror, and he was killed.}

"C'est une pitié..." {That is a pity...} Lucius murmured softly, while glancing over at the younger two that were with them... to see both teens laughing quietly. The elder Malfoy blinked, but after a moment, satisfied that his son was being a good host, he turned back to his own guest. "Il n'y a eu aucun développement sur le cas du tout? Aucune note aléatoire, rien?" {There have been no developments on the case at all? No ransom note, nothing?}

Vivian blinked, "Il n'y a eu aucun entretien de ransom, aucun... et d'évidence très petite du tout, dans la mesure où je sais..." {There has been no talk of ransom, no... and very little evidence at all, as far as I know...}

"Alors il n'y en a eu aucun, assurément." {Then there has been none, undoubtedly.} Lucius replied, finishing his first glass of the deep red wine and setting the elegant goblet back on the table with practiced grace.

A moment later, the wine stuart; a young man with dark blonde hair, tanned skin and hazel eyes, dressed in the scrupulous, white uniform befitting his station, appeared at his elbow. "Would you care for more wine, sir?" the nervous young man inquired, his fingers grasped around the bottle of Chateuneuf duPape just a little too tightly. 

"Please," the blonde aristocrat replied eloquently. He met Vivian's emerald eyes with his own striking silver, "Would you care for more, Mademoiselle?"

Vivian shook her head slightly, "No, thank you." She replied, just as effortlessly, offering the stuart, who looked to be quite near her age, a reassuring, beautiful smile. 

The young man blushed, his hand wavering slightly as he filled the elder Malfoy's goblet, not enough to cause any harm, but more then enough for those present to discern.

Lucius chose to ignore it. "My dear?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at his wife.

"No, thank you." Narcissa replied smoothly, not bothering to smile. "I would prefer something from the bar." She inferred, finishing the last of her wine with a small, delicate sip, before setting her own goblet back on the table.

The young man blushed again, this time carefully pulling the wine bottle up and setting a handkerchief up near the top of the bottle, and lifting it away. "O-oh, of course." He nodded, backing away slightly. "I-I'll send Eric over."

"Please do," Lucius replied, somehow managing to seem completely indifferent to the matter and quite dangerous at the same time.

Vivian just barely rolled her eyes, taking another sip from her goblet.

~ * ~

The room's occupants stopped in mid-sentence as the sound of some rather unhappy tummies interrupted them. They all turned, blinking.

After a moment, Mrs. Weasley offered a soft smile, "Hungry, dears?" she asked, glancing at the clock, which read half past one.

Both of the Weasley twins nodded, blushing. "Sorry, mum."

"Quite all right, dears," Molly replied, still smiling slightly, "it is rather late..." she rose, turning to Dumbledore, "I'm sorry to be leaving like this, Albus, but would you mind...?"

"No, not at all... As a matter of fact," Dumbledore paused, considering. A moment later, he seemed to have decided. He looked around the room, counting heads. "I wonder if all of you would be kind enough to lunch with me?"

"Isn't he Great Hall closed for refinishing?" Ron asked, blinking.

The headmaster chuckled, "Yes, yes, it is. But, as it happens. I've built up a large number of gift certificates to the same restaurant, and I can't seem to get through them..." he shook his head, "People seem to think they're a wonderful Christmas gift... always preferred a good batch of fudge myself, but..." he shrugged, and then smiled. "Would you mind giving an old man a hand?"

Everyone blinked several times at this. Finally, Mrs. Weasley managed to reply, "Of course... we'd love to, Albus..."

"Good, good." Dumbledore smiled, nodding as he rose to his feet, his elegantly starred robes swishing about behind him. "Shall we be on our way, then?" he asked, gesturing to the fireplace.

"All of us?" Professor Snape inquired, his tone relatively neutral.

"Yes, Severus, all of us." The headmaster replied, "I'm sure you can suffer our presence for a short time longer."

The Potions Master rolled his eyes, but nodded.

"Albus?"

"Yes, Arthur?" Dumbledore replied, while pulling out a bag of Floo powder from his desk drawer.

"If you don't mind my asking, where are Remus... and Snuffles?"

"Oh, Remus is a bit preoccupied at the moment." Dumbledore replied evenly. "And Snuffles is staying with him." As he finished saying this, he swept slowly over to the fireplace, his age apparently offering him a wizened grace rather than a lack thereof. "Who would like to go through first?" He asked, taking a handful of the light powder from the bag.

A momentary pause met this inquiry, before Hermione stepped forward, dragging Ron with her. "We will, sir, if that's all right..."

"Of course," the headmaster nodded, gesturing to the fireplace, "of course. In you go."

Both moved into the fireplace, Ron somewhat reluctantly. They stood there, Hermione not bothered by the fact that her head just barely came up to the redhead's nose, and that was probably only because she was wearing half-inch heals, and bore herself with slightly better posture than the other Gryffindor. 

Dumbledore smiled at the picture they made, then he tossed the handful of light powder into the fireplace, intoning, "_Vera Hecates._"

~ * ~

Lucius raised an eyebrow, while his wife blinked, and their guest remained apparently indifferent, though there was a glint of amusement in her eyes. All three were watching the younger two of their party.

"Two orders of chicken soup, sir?" The waiter repeated for the second time, blinking. "Are you... quite certain, sir?" he asked, his quill poised in a delicate grip over his scrolled parchment. The middle-aged wizard clearly didn't know how to react to this situation. In his impeccable, long white robes and perfectly polished black boots, he didn't feel that it was appropriate to order something so... _common_. But, he was dealing with a Malfoy...

"Quite," Draco replied scathingly, "thank you." He held the older man's dark eyes with his own silver gaze until the other looked away. 

"Yes, yes, of course." The waiter nodded, quickly writing the order down, his hand shaking ever so slightly. "Would you like anything else?" he asked, looking back and forth between the two teens.

Draco looked at Harry, "Toute autre chose?" {Anything else?} He asked.

Harry shook his head, "No, merci, Draco." He smiled slightly at the waiter. "Merci, monsieur. Désolé pour le dérangement." {Sorry for the trouble.}

"Votra beenvenoo," The waiter replied in broken, poorly accented French. He then bowed to the tables elders, having already taken their orders, and left rather quickly.

After a moment, the elder Malfoy shook his head, deciding to ask his son what the importance of 'chicken soup' was, at a later date, before turning back to his wife and guest. Before he could think of something to start up conversation once again, Vivian stepped in.

"Oh, Lucius, il y a quelque chose que j'ai étée signification pour vous demander..." {There's something I've been meaning to ask you...} she said, reaching down into one of the lower pockets of her robes and pulling out a scroll. "Est-ce que cela vous dérangerait de lire ceci?" {Would you mind reading this?}

Raising an eyebrow to show his curiosity, the blonde accepted the document, carefully unrolling it and scanning the text.

Vivian turned to Narcissa smiling, "Je n'avais pas maintenu le monde de la mode récemment," {I haven't been keeping track of the world of fashion lately,} she sighed, "est-ce que j'ai manqué quelque chose?" {Have I missed anything?}

~ * ~

"Wow..." was the general statement that ran throughout the group as they assembled in the entrance hall of Vera Hecates Restaurant.

Snape raised an eyebrow at the headmaster, "You have nineteen gift certificates to one of the finest restaurants in the Wizarding world?"

Dumbledore shrugged, "Twenty-five actually. But it will be nice to get these out of the way."

The others simply stared at him. 

The aged wizard just smiled, his eyes twinkling. "Shall we?" he asked, gesturing to the main entrance (to the restaurant, from the hall). 

~ * ~

"Que font-elles ici?" {What are _they_ doing here?} Narcissa broke in suddenly. 

Her two companions turned slightly in the direction of her glare, to see the maitre d' sitting a large party, which included; a large portion of the Hogwarts staff, Aurors Figg and Moody, and the whole Weasley family. 

Lucius frowned, glancing at the Auror across from him.

Vivian returned his gaze steadily, shaking her head. "Importe-t-il vraiment?" {Does it really matter?} she asked. 

~ * ~

"This place is..." Hermione shook her head, clearly awed, "_really_ nice." She murmured quietly.

Ron nodded in agreement. 

"Hey look!" Fred whispered, but everyone at the table heard him.

His mother raised an eyebrow, clearly feeling out of place in these surroundings, but determined to enjoy it. "What is it, dear?" she asked.

Fred blushed, "The Malfoys are here..." then he frowned, "...and Vivian's with them!" 

"What?!" Almost everyone gasped, turning to look.

And there indeed, at one of the private tables, on the upper levels, sat the Malfoy family and the Auror they'd become acquainted with over the last few weeks.

Hermione frowned, "Who's the boy talking to Malfoy?"

"Jr.?" Arabella asked, glancing in Draco's direction, her eyes settling on Harry. She frowned, "I don't know... wait!" she glanced at Moody, "You don't suppose that's her brother...?"

Moody frowned, "Has to be...doesn't look like a Malfoy, and he does look a lot like her... strange..."

"What?" Molly asked, "and who is he?"

"That has to be Vivian's younger brother, Harold." Arabella replied, shaking her head. "But I wouldn't think she'd be willing to bring him anywhere near the Malfoy family..."

"Why?" Ron asked, glaring at his best friend's rival and the boy he was talking to [AN: LOL, ironic, isn't it?] 

"Vivian's little brother is her only known weakness..." Arabella shook her head. "I didn't think she even let him leave the Potier Manor, no ones ever met him."

"Where is he educated, then?" Professor McGonagall asked with a frown.

"At home, just like she was, we assume." Arabella shook her head, again. "Not much is known about him... I've visited the Manor dozens of times, and I've never met him."

"So the Malfoys are the first members of Wizarding society that the boy has supposedly met?" Snape asked, raising an eyebrow. "Aside from his family, and tutors, of course."

Both Aurors nodded.

All of the Weasley winced.

"That doesn't make any sense!" Ron protested, "Why would she be with the Malfoys anyway?" 

"They probably invited her to lunch." Snape sneered.

Arabella nodded, "And she might have wanted to discuss some political matter with Lucius Malfoy... or maybe she's investigating them on something."

"But I thought Harry's case was the only one she was..." Ron stopped.

"Exactly," Moody nodded.

~ * ~

Draco suppressed a sigh when he saw his father signal their waiter for the check. He was actually enjoying himself. That was a rare occurrence at meals, especially when they had guests. 

Thanks to his parents training and expectations, he always strove to be a superb host, which was often rather difficult, or at least _quite_ aggravating when he was with people his own age. They usually fell under one of three 'problem categories'. One; they talked about themselves the whole time (_very_ aggravating!). Two; they fawned over him the whole time (_quite_ annoying). Or, three (in Crabbe and Goyles case); they didn't make any conversation at all, so he had to fill the silence...

But Potier was different.

It was too bad the other boy didn't attend Hogwarts, then he might have had a chance at having an actual _friend_ at school. He didn't think the boy would be in Slytherin, although he certainly seemed to have a number of Slytherin qualities, so it was a possibility. Maybe he would've been in Ravenclaw... He _couldn't_ be a Gryffindor; how could Draco even consider liking him then? And he probably wouldn't be in Hufflepuff...

Potier carried conversation well, and he like talking about Quidditch; Draco's favorite hobby. 

"Votre facture, monsieur." {Your bill, sir.}

Draco sighed as the maitre d' handed his father the check, bowing deeply.   
  
~ * ~  
  
Vivian smiled at her brother, as he sat down beside her with a sigh. "Have fun?" she asked, before tapping the ceiling with her wand and commanding; "_Harrods_."

Harry nodded, then frowned.

"What's wrong?"

"Deux choses..." {Two things...} he replied shaking his head.

The Auror raised an eyebrow.

"Comment est-ce qu'au nom de _Merlin_ je suis parvenu à m'asseoir par le déjeuner avec la famille entière de Malfoy, parlant avec Draco Malfoy le temps entier... et à l'apprécier?" {How in Merlin's name did I manage to sit through lunch with the entire Malfoy family, talking with Draco Malfoy the entire time... and enjoy it?}

Vivian smiled. "The Malfoys are excellent hosts, they make sure of it... and perhaps you only needed a chance to see beyond the visage he's expected to hold before society." She shook her head, and continued before he could reply. "And your second worry?"

"La volonté I puisse _jamais_ parler anglais encore?! " {Will I ever be able to speak English again?!} he whined. 

Vivian laughed, glancing out the window. "Ah look, Aunt Petunia's waiting for us..." she frowned. "My, she was certainly busy today."

Harry snickered. "Je vous ai dit ainsi!" {I told you so!} He kept laughing, while his sister glared.  
  
~ * ~  
  
"Good morning, everyone." Dumbledore smiled, entering his office to find all of the Weasleys, the school staff, and Remus present. "Anything interesting today, Arthur?" he asked, while sitting down behind his desk, watching Mr. Weasley glare at a copy of the Daily Prophet.

"There's an article on Harry's disappearance on the front page, by Skeeter." The redhead replied.

"Oh?" Dumbledore murmured, taking a sip of the tea that had just appeared on his desk; undoubtedly thanks to the Hogwarts house elves. "And what does Miss Skeeter have to say?"

"I don't know yet," Mr. Weasley replied, "I haven't been able to make myself read past the headline; _Boy-Who-Lived; Gone Forever?_"

Almost everyone present groaned.

Suddenly there was a 'SCHWUMPH' from the fireplace, quickly followed by a second, as Arabella Figg and Alastor Moody arrived.

Arabella blinked upon seeing everyone glaring at the newspaper in Mr. Weasley's hands. (Well, almost everyone; the Headmaster was smiling pleasantly while offering them an all too cheerful, "Good morning," and Professor Snape seemed to be having difficulty between deciding on whether he should glare at the paper of praise it.) "Is something wrong?" she asked.

"Rita Skeeter wrote an article on the case." Mrs. Weasley explained.

"Oh..." Arabella blinked, then laughed. "It can't be that bad!"

Everyone looked at her.

"Why wouldn't it be?" Ron asked, "She's never written anything nice about _anybody_."

Arabella shrugged, "But I bet she didn't say anything overly awful about this case."

"Why?" Professor McGonagall asked. 

"Because Vivian's involved."

"What?" several people asked.

Moody nodded in agreement. "Skeeter's always had rather immense deference for Potier."

Another burst of green flame from the fireplace announced said Auror's arrival. She looked around, "Did I miss anything?"  
  


End chapter 5.  
  
  
AN: That's it for Chapter 5! What'd you think?  
  
Response to Reviews:  
  
Angelic-devil – Thank you. ^_^   
  
Xirleb70 – LOL, I'm glad. ^_^ *sigh*, Yes, Foreign languages can be difficult, can't they?... Hmm, as to the relationship with Draco... [I'd like to mention; I'm not a slash writer, I'm pretty much neutral in the category. I'll read it, if the story itself is good, but I can't write it... But] yes, friendship is a possibility, which I believe this chapter suggested rather strongly (if it didn't, please tell me, so I can rewrite it!)... Yup, Harry's growing up! ^_^  
  
Everpresent – LOL, yes, this is quite the change from LS, isn't it? Thank you... It's a little difficult... the stories are different enough that I usually don't get them mixed up, but I can't write them back to back, because I might screw up on some points in the characters personalities. 

Ah yes, Vivian's great, isn't she? Don't worry, she's not perfect, she's just good at what she does, and handling people when she wants to. We'll see more of her flaws pretty soon... Yes, she is only twenty-one, and she is unusual... but I honestly think it wouldn't be *impossible* for someone to rise to where she is in the amount of time she's had. She skipped two years of school, (which I did mention here... didn't I?) so she's been out of school (working) for five years. She's very strong, she has her weaknesses, but she's good at hiding them, she's very ambitious, aggressive, and demanding of herself and others when the situation calls for it.

I do appreciate your warning though. If you honestly thing she's getting worse as the story progresses, please tell me again, and I'll try to work on it... I do have quite a bit of conflict planned, but that's for later... right now I'm working on getting to the conflict (while working with several other fan fics at the same time... not overly wise, but... what can I say?)...

LOL, yes, Petunia is too good to be true isn't she? A constant source of confusion for Harry... I find that amusing... and she has her moments later on... so... I like her. (I'm particularly fond of her aversion to house elves...)

Thanks for reminding me about Harry writing to his friends. As it happens, he's been so busy that he hadn't thought of it before. Plus, the books always start out (basically) with him interacting with them (in some form or another) on his birthday, so that's when I thought he should remember it... 

Evil LOL... Not telling... well... it's starting to come out... but that's for you to find! :P (^_^) Harry does have to go back to school soon though, so it won't be long... LOL... the introduction is an amusing concept I've been toying with for awhile... everyone (basically) already knows 

Vivian, but very few people (Here's the list: Vivian herself, Harry, A. Petunia... Ria, someone else, and the house elves of the Potter/Potier Manor...) know her as Harry's older sister; Vivian Potter (thanks to the spell)...

Yup! Family... I like that theme in HP, don't ask me why, but it's one of my favorites... Don't worry, I don't plan on dumping the Weasleys... but that's for later...

You're welcome, and thank you. ^_^

Pheonixrising – ^_^ Thanks. 

Yes, the training was fun, how was it in this chapter? I know there wasn't any (yet... that's for later), but I didn't want to throw too much into this chapter... I did that before with another fan fic... (the stupid chapter just _wouldn't_ end!)

Yes... restaurant was fun... 

LOL, merci, but I can't take much credit at all. My mom checked everything I wrote and I was using a lot of translators... and don't down yourself too much! If you've made it through French 1 and can at least say that it looks right, that's pretty good! I know some people who couldn't read any conjugated words until the end of their second year of language! 

Thanks for reviewing! ^_^  


Translations: 

Consanguina - related by blood (Latin)

?

REVIEW!

REVIEW!!!

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****

REVIEW!!!

...pretty, pretty, please?

Bye! ^_^

~ Jess S


	7. Chapter 6: Training, Tracking & Mail

Disclaimer: I own the plot, I apologize if it's been done before. Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.  
  
AN: Hi! Real AN at the end! Enjoy!

****

Consanguina 

by Jess S  
  
**Chapter 6: _Training, Tracking, and Mail_**

"Not bad," Vivian nodded, lowering her sword; a forty-inch, false-edged practice blade, and watching her brother do the same with a similar sword. "We'll make a swordsman out of you, yet." She smiled.

Harry shrugged, sheathing his own practice sword carefully, as he'd been taught. It wasn't that this particular sword was dangerous, but they were working up to his being able to work with swords that could take off his hand or foot if he missed.

"Your skill is improving," Vivian approved, sheathing the sword she'd been using easily, with speed and grace bought by experience, but no less caution than her younger sibling. 

"Thank you," Harry replied, smiling. He could still remember when the Auror General had first handed him a sword, several weeks past... to say he'd been a little clumsy would be an _incredibly_ kind statement. His sister praise meant a lot, seeing as she never gave any that wasn't deserved; outside of politics, that is.

"Why don't we practice hand to hand combat?"

Harry nodded, falling back into a defensive stance. 

[AN: WARNING: I have absolutely _no_ training in martial arts, all of the terms I used here I got out of a dictionary online. So I don't think this scene will really be any good, so don't read it if you think you may not like it...]

Vivian immediately began with a strike to his stomach, he jumped out of the way and went to grab her wrist, but she'd already withdrawn and begun a step punch, he reacted with inside strike, which she dodged by ducking. 

Harry jumped, fully expecting the kick she aimed at his legs, and somersaulted to the side, to land and step around, striking downward at her head. She caught his hand, and used his speed to toss him over her shoulder while she rose back to her feet. He landed easily, all too used to being thrown around after weeks of practicing with her. 

They watched each other carefully. 

After a moment, Vivian raised an eyebrow and fell back into a defensive position. "Attack me," she ordered.

Harry nodded, quickly inching forward until he was in range to do so, while still holding a defensive posture, and then obeyed; attacking with a sideward strike and pulling back as she stepped around it, just missing a sleeve grab.

Not pausing, Vivian launched a kick at his stomach. Harry caught it with two hands, and pushed her upwards. She quickly responded by kicking his hands with her other foot and using the momentum to flip backwards, push off the mat with her hands, and land on her feet again, quickly falling into a defensive position once again. 

Harry was already moving forward, and quickly launched a step-punch at her neck. 

She caught him and pushed downwards, twisting his wrist slightly so that he was forced to follow the move. Once he was half kneeling on the floor, he made a grab for her left foot, but she sidestepped it, still holding his wrist, and leaned down, pressing to fingers two one of the pressure points on his neck.

Harry froze, knowing he'd lost... _again_.

Vivian smiled, releasing stepping back. "Very good, Harry." 

~ * ~

A few hours later, Vivian had left to supposedly research his disappearance at the Ministry, and Harry himself was wandering around the Potter Manor. After a few weeks here, he had indeed begun to feel at home. 

It had helped that the Manor itself seemed to be built in the same fashion as Hogwarts, with some of its own characteristics here and there. He suspected that the only reason he wasn't (too) overwhelmed by the thought of this massive building being his home was because he'd grown used to thinking of Hogwarts as his home.

The only problems he now had with the Manor were one; he still got lost occasionally. Two; he'd only found twelve of the secret passages (Vivian had told him that there were more than a hundred of them).... Three; He wished Vivian would tell him more of whatever was happening... she rarely let him read the _Daily Prophet_, and she didn't talk much about work; out of habit, he supposed. And four;...he wished his friends were here, to make it feel more homelike, less... _empty_.... 

~ * ~

"Why the long faces, dears?" Mrs. Weasley asked, eyeing her youngest son and his best friend (one of them, anyway,) worriedly.

Both Ron and Hermione sighed.

The occupants of the Headmasters office watched them with concern.

"I may be wrong," Vivian offered, taking a sip of the tea one of the Hogwarts house elves had just brought her, "but I suspected their sudden depression has something to do with the date."

Almost all of the others in the office looked at her.

"What's wrong with the date?" Percy asked.

"Tomorrow is July thirty-first," Vivian replied, taking another sip of tea. "Mr. Potter's birthday, is it not?" 

"_Yes,_" Ron and Hermione answered simultaneously.

"Oh dear," Mrs. Weasley shook her head, her eyes bright.

Professor McGonagall sighed, "I've been wondering if I should send his admissions letter out, as well. I usually send it today."

Suddenly, Vivian snapped her fingers, drawing all attention back to her. "I think that perhaps you should, Minerva," she smiled, and then glanced at the two fifteen-year olds. "And I suppose you have gifts for him as well?" she asked.

Both nodded.

"But how are we supposed to have them deliv–" Ron started, but Vivian cut him off.

"Owls are truly delightful creatures," the Auror smiled. "We may be lucky enough that wherever Mr. Potter is, is not guarded against owls. Not many people know that you have to put specific wards up against postal owls."

"Mr. Potter's kidnapper has shown a wide range of knowledge in similar circumstances," Professor Snape pointed out. "What makes you think they haven't thought of this?"

Vivian shrugged, "It's worth a try... we can put trackers on the owls so that we may follow them if they do manage to find him...." She shook her head, "And there is still the possibility that Mr. Potter was _not_ kidnapped," she murmured. "After all, what else can Miss Evans divorce papers imply? And there has been little evidence to the contrary." She then glanced at Ron, Hermione, and their House Head, "Write your letters and whatnot, I will provide the owls."

"Why?" Hermione asked.

Vivian held her gaze, her emerald eyes serious, "Just because there is the chance that Mr. Potter _can_ be found, doesn't mean it's certain. His... host may do any number of things to prevent it, if they did indeed kidnap him. My owls are trained for such circumstances," she shrugged, "and I would rather not have the deaths of someone else's pets on my conscious."

~ * ~

The grandfather clock, located down in the entrance hall before the main staircase, rang noon, the heavy 'dong, dong, dong...' echoing through the Manor's halls.

Harry looked up. He was used to the clock by now, it only rang eight times a day, but it didn't bother anyone at night. Vivian had told him that was because of the charms placed on all of the bedroom walls and doors.

With a sigh, the young wizard closed the old tome he'd been reading from, and set it down on the table. He rose to his feet, stretching slightly, before making his way out of the library and down to the sunroom, where he'd promised to meet his aunt for lunch.

~ * ~

"Are you sure this a good idea?" Hermione asked, while taking one of the eagle owls that Vivian had summoned and tying her parcel to its right talon, watching as Ron and Professor McGonagall did the same. 

There were collars around all three birds' necks, which contained the tracking devices. 

"Do you have a better one?" Vivian asked, her tone kind. "Because I confess, I'm running out of them."

Hermione sighed, shaking her head. After a moment she asked, "How long do you think it will take them?"

"To find him?" Vivian replied, and shrugged. "Who knows? _If_ they are able to find him, it could take anywhere from a day to a week... If they can't; they'll bring the packages back here. Ready?" she asked, glancing at all three.

All of them nodded, stepping back.

Vivian pointed her wand at the red gem on each of the owls' collars. None of the well-trained birds' flinched, or even blinked, as she activated the trackers. She then pointed her wand at the map of Wizarding Europe, which had all of the (plottable) Wizarding areas marked on it, and muttered something under her breath. A glowing, medium-size, red dot appeared on the map where Hogwarts was located. Once that was done, Vivian whistled loudly, and all three messengers took flight.

They watched for a few moments while the red dot hovered around Hogwarts, until it then went south.

"They know where he is!" Hermione cried happily.

Vivian shook her head, "Not necessarily, they may be looking for awhile. Until then," she said, rolling the map up and handing it to Professor Dumbledore, who placed it in one of his desk drawers. "I suggest we get back to looking for another route to finding the boy."

~ * ~

Not far from the Hogwarts grounds, but still out of sight of Hogsmeade, a slender witch stood, watching the approaching three owls. The hood of her deep blue cloak shadowed her features, and only one strand of her reddish-blonde hair wasn't concealed within the hood.

Just before they passed overhead, she raised her wand, and waved it three times, pointing at each of the owls as she did so and murmuring a spell under her breath. Three beams of blackish-purple light shot out of the end of the wand.

The owls did not try to dodge the spells, so the beams hit the glowing red jewels on their collars, the red lights darkened slightly, gaining a purplish tint, before returning to their original shade.

Shaking her head slightly, the witch Apparated away. 

~ * ~

The next day, Harry looked up as not two, but five owls flew into the breakfast parlor and landed on five of the twelve perches that were set up there. There were the normal tawny owls that delivered the post; _The Daily Prophet_ and _Le Journal Magique_, and there were three eagle owls with collars that bore glowing red gems. Two of the eagle owls bore parcels, another held what looked like a Hogwarts letter.

"Vivian?" he called in inquiry.

She entered a moment later, her ministry robes sweeping behind her. The Auror smiled slightly, taking the newspapers from the messengers, giving each a treat and dropping a sickle in each of the bags. She said, "thank you," to one and, "merci" to the other. 

Both owls hooted in reply, after finishing their treats, and then took off.

Vivian glanced at the other three, then nodded to her brother. "Well go on then, they're for you."

Harry blinked, stopping with his fork, which bore a bite-size piece of his waffles, half way to his open mouth. Several large drops of syrup dripped off the breakfast food, before he set the fork back on his plate. "What?" he asked. He'd been at the Manor all summer and had never once received any mail for himself.

Vivian smiled, taking another parcel out of her robes and putting on the table. "Happy Birthday, Harry." She said, placing an affectionate kiss on his brow, before rising up again, "I am sorry that I can't spend the day with you. Why don't we make it up tomorrow?" 

Harry blinked, and looked at the calendar; '_July 31st_', and blinked again. This was the first time in a _long_ time that he'd been that oblivious to the date, which was rather strange; considering he would actually probably have a real birthday today.

"Aunt Petunia's been in the kitchen for a while now," Vivian told him, while pouring some tea into a stainless steal travel-mug. "She threw the house elves out an hour before dawn." She shook her head, adding milk and sugar to the mug before screwing the top on. "I think she'd prefer to be left alone, at least for the morning and early afternoon," she said, "I have the house elves working in the other kitchen, so we'll have a feast set out for supper, alright?" she asked with a smile. 

Harry nodded mutely, rising from his seat and making his way over to the owls, while Vivian headed for the door. Upon seeing the Hogwarts seal on the letter, he blinked again, and quickly spun around toward the door, "Vivian!"

She stopped and turned around, raising an eyebrow, "Yes?"

"How am I supposed to reply to these?" he asked, frowning. "One's from Hogwarts and the other two are probably from Ron and Hermione, I can't just... _not_ answer them!"

Vivian smiled reassuringly, "Don't worry about it. That's all taken care of. Just write your reply and send them off, _soon_." She instructed. "You can say that you're safe and happy and whatnot, but try not to give any clues as to where you are. Refer to me as 'family ' or something along those lines, and yes," she answered his unasked question, "you will be returning to Hogwarts this year."

Harry nodded, "Ok..."

His sister smiled again, before spinning on her heel and hurrying from the room, a moment later he heard the Floo and then silence once again.

Harry shook his head before returning his attention to his mail. 

~ * ~

"Where is she?" Ginny asked for the fifth time.

Arabella sighed, "I don't know, dear. She's a very busy lady," she shook her head. "Honestly, it's a wonder she chose to take this case, considering she's been even more busy than usual–"

She was cut off by the sound of the Floo suddenly bursting to life, as Vivian herself stepped through.

"Good morning," Vivian smiled at all of them, receiving nods from everyone and a "morning!" from Ginny.

"Why're you so late?" Ginny asked after a moments silence, before her hands flew up to her mouth as she realized how insulting that question could be.

Vivian merely smiled reassuringly, "I am sorry, I was... held up for awhile at the Ministry," she shook her head, a faintly disgusted look crossing her features before they returned to her normal 'pleasantly neutral' expression. 

"What happened?" Hermione asked, curious.

The Auror glanced at her while taking the only vacant seat. After a moment she replied. "Have you read the _Prophet_ recently?" she asked.

"What? – ah, no," Hermione shook her head, "I haven't... why?"

"Anyone?" Vivian asked, looking around.

Everyone glanced at each other before all shook their heads.

"I'm afraid we've all been a bit preoccupied," Professor McGonagall replied.

"Oh, quite right," Vivian nodded, not sounding the least bit surprised.

"What was in the paper?" Ron asked.

Vivian shook her head, pulling a rolled up copy of the _Daily Prophet_ out of an inside pocket of her robes. She handed it to the headmaster over his desk. "The _Minister,_" she began as Dumbledore unrolled the Wizarding paper, "has begun a new campaign, and it would seem," she nodded to the paper, "that Mr. Potter is being viewed as... either delusional, mad, a 'fame seeker', or all of the above."

The Headmaster nodded in agreement, frowning at the paper as he turned the page. He shook his head, but before he could say anything, Hermione let out a shriek.

"Look!" she cried, jumping to her feet and pointing out the window.

They all turned to look. For a moment none of them were sure of what they were looking for, but it quickly became apparent that the sight of the three eagle owls they'd set off the day before was the cause of her concern. 

~ * ~

"Is something wrong, Harry?"

Harry looked up, "Hmm...? What? Oh - no! No... not at all..." he replied, while rubbing his forehead, "just a headache..." As his aunt nodded, sparing him a concerned glance before turning back to her fruit salad, he frowned, '_More like a **scar** ache..._' he shook his head, sighing while rubbing his scar again, hoping the prickling would go away on its own.

"You should tell Vivian about it."

"What...?" He looked up again, a piece of melon balanced on his fork, halfway up from his plate.

"If you're scar is bothering you... it might be important..." Aunt Petunia replied, looking very nervous.

"Well... yeah... I suppose..." Harry nodded, then frowned. "Wait... how do you...?"

"You're mother told me... a long time ago... that curse scars are different from normal scars... and that the more powerful the curse was, the more powerful the scar is..." she shook her head, before meeting his eyes with her own, over-bright blue ones, "The curse that gave you that scar killed both of your parents, their murderer and..." she sniffled, "it... it even brought their townhouse down..." she shook her head, "and now that... _he_'s back... it could be important..."

After a moment, Harry nodded.

~ * ~

Vivian shook her head as she took the letters from her owls and handed it to the addressees, who simply clutched the letters hopefully, before turning to the headmaster.

Dumbledore, it seemed, was already ahead of them, for he had unrolled the map, and was frowning at it.

"What is it, Albus?" Professor McGonagall asked, looking worried.

The Headmaster sighed, after a moment, he looked at Vivian, "How, may I ask, does the tracking spell work, Vivian?"

Vivian frowned, apparently startled. "It's... a tracking spell. The map shows where the owls flew.... Doesn't it?" she asked.

"I was afraid of that," he sighed, before setting the map down on his desk, for all to see.

Everyone stared at the map. 

Instead of one steady, red line leading away from Hogwarts, there were hundreds of purple ones, all leading way from Hogwarts, traveling the same distance and looking back around.

"What... what happened?" Mrs. Weasley asked, shaking her head.

"The tracking collars were tampered with," Vivian sighed, shaking her head. "I'll have my department look them over. It could have happened anywhere throughout the journey.... But if we're lucky, they were changed by Mr. Potters keeper, wherever they are, and that'll be at least one clue." She spun toward the fire, and tossed a few glittering, miniscule jewels in, before turning back to them. "In the mean time," she continued, looking at the map. "We can always search these areas."

"What do you mean?" Madame Hooch asked, "wherever they went, they covered at least a hundred miles, they could be anywhere."

"No," Vivian shook her head, "wherever they went, they covered one hundred miles... the map shows that much."

There was a burst of green flame from the fireplace, as a young Auror stepped through, before the flames died down.

Everyone turned to look at the newcomer; a young witch in Ministry robes much like Vivian's, with reddish-blonde hair and bright sky-blue eyes. 

"Ria'," Vivian smiled, nodding. "Thank you for coming so quickly." She nodded to the three owls that were resting on the perches by the window. "I need you to check the trackers for tampering." As Ria' nodded, making her way over to the owls, Vivian turned back to the others. "Everyone, may I introduce my friend and colleague, Riatanya Willow?"

Everyone nodded greeting to her, introducing themselves.

After a moment, everyone turned back to the map. 

"What is it?" Professor McGonagall asked, noticing the barely present frown on Vivian's face.

"What?" Vivian asked, looking up and blinking quickly. 

The reaction made both Ron and Hermione frown; for some reason it reminded them of Harry... Ron glanced at Hermione, but she shook her head. It was, after all, Harry's birthday, _and_ he was missing; they were bound to be reminded of him. 

"Oh," the Auror shook her head, frowning more deeply as she returned her attention to the map. "I may be wrong, but... Ria'?"

A moment later, the other Auror reached her side, two of the tracking collars in hand, with the third owl perched on her arm. "Yes?"

Vivian pointed at an area on the map, running her finger along an area of the hundred-mile-radius of Hogwarts. "Don't these lands belong to the Malfoys?"

Everyone blinked at that.

Miss Willow leaned in more closely, scrutinizing the map, before nodding. "Yes, I think that's exactly where the Malfoy Manor is located..." 

End of Chapter 6.

Translations:

Consanguina - related by blood (Latin)

AN: Well, that's it for Chapter 6! I know... awful short, but it seemed like a good place to stop, so... :-D 

In response to reviews;

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Xirleb70 – LOL, that's good to hear. I'm glad you're enjoying it. ^_^

LOL... yeah... I kinda like the mature Harry, so that's not likely... although he may have his moments...

I hope you enjoyed this chapter too!

Thank you. ^_^

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Rachel A. Prongs – Umm... I honestly have no idea, because I've always thought a "Mary-Sue" is an OC based off the author, and I'm nothing like Vivian... she had my sense of humor and she majored in the two Wizarding classes that I like the most. That's about it. I said in the first chapter that Vivian is extremely important to the plot, and she is, and so is Harry, but neither one rules it.... 

*Sigh* Honestly, I've just been trying to introduce how Vivian got to be where she is at this point in the story, because many parts of it are important later on. A chapter can only be so long, so, yes, the last one did focus on Vivian and how she interacted with the Malfoys a lot. But it also had almost all of the other characters involved, and it had Harry & Draco interacting. So I don't think it really suggested the story is about Vivian, but I suppose that's a matter of opinion. 

Thank you for reading and reviewing. I appreciate it.

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Jaded*Secrets – Hi, Jade, glad to hear it.

I updated LS a little while ago, V-Star and I are working on the next chapter. 

Sorry for the wait. ^_^

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Endless-luv – Thank you, I'm glad to hear it. I'm sorry about the wait.

Thanks for reviewing! ^_^

****

Pheonixrising – Thank you. ^_^

LOL, yes, that would have been interesting, and rather difficult for our hero...

Hmm... LOL, sorry, I can't tell you that... you'll have to wait. ^_^

Sorry for the wait.

Thanks for reviewing!!!

Out of curiosity, what did everyone think of Book 5?

PLEASE REVIEW!!!

Pretty, pretty, pretty, (many, many more pretty's) PLEEEEAAASSEE!!!

REVIEW!!!

Bye! ^_^

~ Jess S


	8. Chapter 7: House Elf Problems & Orderly ...

Disclaimer(s): 

I own the plot, I apologize if it's been done before. Harry Potter and everything related belongs to J.K. Rowling.

The mentioned "Muggle Fantasy book; _Wizard of the Grove by Tanya Huff_" **_is_** an actual book, and one I highly recommend, if you like the genre.  
  
AN: Hi! Real AN at the end! Enjoy!

Consanguina by Jess S  
  
Chapter 7: House Elf Problems & Orderly Concerns...

"Vivian!.... _Vivian!_"

The Auror looked up, toward the inner door of her study to see that it was open slightly with a view of the second kitchen on the other side, almost entirely blocked by a view her aunt's narrow, panicked face. "What is it?" she asked frowning. She cocked her head slightly to the right and raised an eyebrow in response to the older woman's beckoning gestures. "If it helps, Harry isn't here."

"Oh... yes," Petunia nodded, opening the door a little further, "yes, come here!"

Somewhat bemused, and more than a little curious, Vivian complied, moving forward and through the doorway into the kitchen itself, as her aunt backed up to allow her room, and closing the door behind her. "Now what... oh... oh dear..." The Auror blinked several times, simply gaping at the disaster before her.

Flour littered the kitchen floor, walls, counters and ceiling, alongside frosting, sugar, chocolate, and various other food items. Smoke was rising from the oven in heavy black waves that scorched the ceiling, and she could see what appeared to be the remains of several cakes already on the counter, still in what appeared to be the charred remains of their pans...

Vivian shook her head, and stopped herself for a moment, silently counting to ten before speaking. "Umm... Aunt Petunia..." she shook her head again, bringing a hand up to her temple. "Correct me if I'm wrong... but isn't cooking one of your... fortes?"

"Ah... yes... it is..." Petunia replied while shaking her head, and blinking back tears. "Umm... could you...?" she gestured to the oven.

Vivian took out her wand and began waving it around repeatedly, muttering cleaning, repairing and renewing incantations and charms under her breath. A few moments later the kitchen was spotless, the air was breathable and the... remains were gone.

"Th-thank you." Petunia muttered, sitting down heavily. After a moment she managed a weak smile, "handy, that," she commented, motioning to the kitchen.

The witch nodded, waving her wand again and muttering another spell.

Almost immediately, a house elf appeared.

Petunia released a quiet shriek, jerking back in her seat as the small creatures with bat-like ears bowed deeply to Vivian, apparently not noticing Petunia's presence. "May Minny get something for the, Milady?" she asked, raising her wide, pale-green eyes slightly, though not rising from her half curtsy, half bow.

In most Wizarding households, the distinction of the near-curtsy would not have been noticeable. Mainly because almost all house elves wore only the ragged remains of pillowcases and what not. This was not so in the Potter Manor. Almost a hundred years before, one of the Potters had managed to convince the house elves that cleanliness of themselves and upkeep of their 'garments' was just as important as the upkeep of the Manor. Therefore, the house elves had grown accustom to changing pillowcases every day, cleaning and ironing them, so that they were as respectable as was possible. After some time, another Potter had insisted another change. The female elves' pillowcases were to be longer than the males, they had to go all the way down to the ground, like a dress, and then be tied back with a robe, as that was the only thing the house elves would agree to use. The male's pillowcases only went down to their knees, but were still tied at the waist.

"Yes please, Minny," Vivian replied with a smile, "two lemonades with ice."

Minny half-curtsied, half-bowed again, before disappearing. She reappeared half a moment later, bearing a tray with two glasses, a glass jug of lemonade with ice, and a small container with more ice in it. The glasses floated up in the air and settled on the table at the elf's direction, and several ice cubes leapt out of the container and into the glasses, then jug floated up and filled each glass before finally landing silently in the middle of the table beside the ice container.

"May Minny get you anything else, Milady?" the house elf asked, bowing again. The tray she'd been holding had disappeared.

"No, thank you, Minny." 

~ * ~

The house on number twelve, Grimmauld Place, London was a rather dingy place. With a battered front door, dirty walls and grimy windows one would not expect it to be anything more than deserted. One would certainly not expect it to be the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix, whose members were currently meeting there.

Kreacher, an old, somewhat [AN: *cough* *cough*] crazy house elf who had lived there for many years, would tell you that this was 'the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black'... it was by that right that it belonged to Sirius Black, as he was the only remaining Black still living. 

However, Sirius and Kreacher weren't the houses only occupants. Almost the entire Weasley family was now living there, Hermione was staying there as well, and the members of the Order did occasionally spend the night. But it was a rare occasion indeed that the entire Order was present, as it was now present in the Black dining room, the second full meeting since this group's second formation in session.

"I just don't understand," Emmeline Vance complained, shaking her head as she drew her deep green shawl back up around her shoulders. An elegant lady in her late fifties, she was undoubtedly beautiful in her youth, but time and stress had stolen that youthful elegance to replace it with a weary, yes undoubtedly wizened elegance. "How could this happen?" she continued, "We had a watch on the boy's house all day, every day this summer..."

Arabella coughed slightly, drawing attention to herself, which she quickly directed to another member of the order, by sparing him a steely glare. "Fletcher was on duty at the time, I believe..." she commented. She raised an eyebrow as the squat, ginger-haired man fought to not meet the gazes of any member of the Order. "I suppose you had another '_good_ business opportunity' that you simply couldn't ignore?"

The middle age wizard coughed slightly, clearing his through nervously, apparently oblivious to the stink of alcohol and tobacco that rose off of him. "Well, come now, this certainly can't help the boy..." he offered nervously, raising his bloodshot, baggy eyes to look around the room, pleadingly.

"Mundungus is right," Professor Dumbledore agreed after a moment, nodding and thereby closing the subject. "We must now focus on finding Harry, and pray that he has come to no harm..."

"But..." Nymphadora Tonks, undoubtedly the youngest witch there, glanced around, her dark eyes betraying a small amount of nervousness. After a moment she continued, her pale, heart-shaped face set. "Begging your pardon, sir," she offered, nodding to Dumbledore, and continuing after he nodded, "but, what about the Dark Lord's forces and what not?... We can't just ignore them, right?"

"Of course not," McGonagall cut in, shaking her head. "Fortunately for us, Voldemort appears to be even more interested in discovering Mr. Potter's whereabouts than we are. Correct?" she asked, turning to the right, where both Snape and Dumbledore were clearly in her few.

Snape nodded, "Yes, for the most part the Dark Lord has focused on nothing else... He's become rather... obsessed."

"But he is still gathering his forces?" Kingsley Shacklebolt, a tall, black wizard in Ministry robes inquired, although his tone suggested it wasn't really a question.

Again, the Potions Master nodded, "Of course."

"Has there been any news at the Ministry; Kingsley, Arthur?" Dumbledore asked, gazing serenely at both of them.

Mr. Weasley shook his head sighing.

Shacklebolt nodded slightly, "Yes, the _Prophet_'s become the talk of the town... and there's been some gossips about behind the scene operations and whatnot... and even talk of a possible insurgence."

"Structured insurgence?" McGonagall asked.

Shacklebolt nodded, "It looks like it... not that anyone could prove it."

"Do you have any idea who's behind it?" Remus Lupin asked.

"Established?" the Auror shook his head, "No...."

~ * ~

"Drink that," Vivian ordered, nodding to the lemonade, "it'll help."

With only a small amount of hesitation, Petunia picked the cup up and began drinking the cool drink, starting with small, hesitant sips, and rapidly becoming deep gulps.

"Slow down," Vivian tsked, shaking her head as her Muggle aunt stopped drinking for a minute to take in great, necessary gulps of air in the place of the sweet and semi-sour drink. "Now," she continued, once the older woman appeared slightly calmer. "What is it?" she asked, "What's bothering you?"

"N-nothing..." Petunia shook her head, taking another gulp of her beverage. "Nothing at all–" she shrieked as Minny the house elf appeared in front of them again, dropping her glass, which then dropped down onto the table, spilling, before rolling off the table and shattering into numerous pieces on the finely-waxed, hardwood floor.

This time, the house elf did take notice of the other woman, sparing her a moments glass before quickly turning to the shattered cup and pointing at it. She formed a fist with her tiny hand, and the glass shards glowed a faint blue before vanishing. Minny then snapped her fingers and the spilled lemonade was gone as well. A glass filled only with ice appeared in its place.

"Thank you, Minny," Vivian nodded, appearing quite amused.

"It is a pleasure to serve, Milady."

Vivian rolled her eyes slightly, but offered a small smile. "What is it?" 

"Master Harry entered one of the training zones in the fourth wing. Minny wondered if that was safe for Master Harry..." the house elf replied.

"No..." The Auror frowned, "It isn't..."

"Should Minny stop Master Harry?"

After a moment, the witch shook her head. "No... just make sure he doesn't get hurt, please."

"As you wish, Milady." The house elf replied with another curtsy/bow, before vanishing, silently.

"Now..." Vivian turned back to her aunt, "I take it you're afraid of the house elves?" she asked, a glint of humor in her emerald gaze.

Petunia whimpered in response.

~ * ~

Harry walked down the new corridor at a relatively normal pace. He was exploring the Manor again... He hadn't been into this Wing before, and judging by the guard spells that had been in place at the doors that had been blocking it off, he probably wasn't supposed to be. Those spells would've kept anyone else out indefinitely, but they were part of the Potter Manor, and therefore set to obey those of the Potter lineage.

This Wing wasn't like many of the others. He couldn't really explain how it was different, it just... was.

It was unequivocally older... darker and sadder...

He supposed that was an attestation to his sister's character... 

While Vivian was approbation and warmth to her friends and family, and while she almost always held a public pretense of flawless neutrality and perfection in place, she did have a cooler... darker side... hidden deep inside her. A vestige of her aphotic and bereaved history...

If the Manor represented her, which he couldn't help but feel it did... than that was what this Wing was... that part of her... the part that no one saw...

Harry jumped back on a pure reflex, startled by a sudden sound from the left side of the corridor.

It was a rather good thing he had that reflex, which had been developed from years of dodging Bludgers during Quidditch practice and games and weeks training under his sister's direction. For it had saved him from being flattened into the wall on the other side of the corridor by a wall of solidified air that had come out of the wall on the left.

After a moment, the Boy-Who-Lived shook his head slightly. Yup... this Wing was a perfect analogy to his older sister... it certainly wasn't lacking in any of her surprises. 

~ * ~

"I just don't get it!" Ron complained loudly for the third time that afternoon, as he dropped down onto the twin bed he slept in here in the safety of the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix. They were located in a gloomy, high-ceilinged room that was just large enough for the pair of beds it held, the night stand and two trunks, although there was only one, located at the end of Ron's bed. 

"What?" Hermione asked tiredly, not looking up from the book she was reading, a Muggle Fantasy book called _Wizard of the Grove by Tanya Huff_, which had clearly been read many times.

The youngest Weasley brother shook his head agitatedly, "_Why?_"

Now, Hermione did look up. "Why, what?" she asked, frowning slightly, clearly puzzled.

"Why would he do it?" the teenage-boy demanded.

"Who..." Hermione blinked, "_Harry?_"

"_Yes!_" Ron nodded, "Why wouldn't he tell us if he needed to get away so badly! Why wouldn't he ask for our help?!" he rose from his position on the bed and started to pace the narrow space between the two beds. 

"Wait, wait, wait!" the other Gryffindor shook her head, "What are you talking about?" she asked, "What did Harry do that's suddenly made you so angry at him?" now, she shook her head. "You've been as worried about him as the rest of us these past few weeks, and honestly, nothing's changed, Harry's still missing... so why are you suddenly angry at him?"

"He did it on purpose!" the redhead exclaimed.

"Did what on purpose?" Hermione replied, fighting to keep her tone calm. "You think he went and got himself **_kidnapped_** on purpose?"

"Ye-_No!_" Ron shook his head, "That's just it! Don't you get it?"

"What?"

"He **_wasn't_** kidnapped!"

"He wasn't..."

"Yes!" Ron insisted, his ears turning a pale shade of pink as he struggled to convince his friend of his train of thought. "Don't you get it?! It's what Vivian's been saying at every meeting... He may have gone willingly, it hasn't been proven that he was kidnapped... Don't you get it?!"

"So you think Harry wasn't kidnapped because you think Vivian thinks he wasn't kidnapped?" Hermione replied after a moment's consideration.

"Yes!" the boy nodded, his ears now bright red. "She's the _best_, Hermione! _Everybody_ says so! And she doesn't think he was kidnapped!"

"No..." Hermione frowned, a thoughtful glimmer entering her soft hazel eyes. "She doesn't..." 

~ * ~

"Hello, Harry." Vivian greeted her younger brother, fighting to suppress a laugh as he half stumbled, half walked into her study later that morning. "Have an interesting morning?"

Harry glowered at her for a moment, before sitting himself in one of the two chairs in front of her desk. "You could say that," he replied, his tone calm and not remotely resembling his attire and his general appearance. The right sleeve of his pale green robe appeared to have been ripped by something. There was a large hole in his pants, by his knee. The front of his vest and the sides of the robe that partially covered it were stained with some type of bright yellow dye. His right boot was also stained, it looked like he'd stepped in a bucket of bright-red paint. Something had turned his hair neon green... and his nose was about twice its usual size.

After several moments of heavy silence, Harry explained; "I went into that wing off the landing on the second floor... the one that was closed off..."

"Did you, now?" Vivian inquired, appearing faintly curious, but undoubtedly _quite_ amused. She returned her attention to the Ministry document she'd been reading prior to sensing her brother's approach, apparently not noticing his... aggravated state. "Did you have fun?"

The Boy-Who-Lived blinked several times, watching as his older sibling twirled a white and gold quill on her fingertips with exacting ease. "You could say that..."

"That's good..." After rereading the document, Vivian signed it and rolled it up, placing it in one of her desk drawers and turning her attention back to her brother, even as she continued to twirl her quill on her fingertips. "Harry... how have your... dreams... been lately. Your visions?" she asked.

Harry blinked in surprised... of all the things she might bring up when he entered her study in this state, he certainly hadn't thought that that might be one of them. Especially considering all of the measures he'd been going through to keep from disturbing her. The dreamless sleep potion he'd taken the liberty of 'borrowing' from her private storage on the third floor had had nearly no affect whatsoever. However the powerful calming potion and pain relievers had had enough of an effect to keep from having her come into his room every night since he'd started taking them every night before bed, starting two weeks prior. Although it had been much easier to fall back to sleep after talking with her, and then drifting off under her watchful eye, sometimes with the help of the lullaby she remembered their mother singing long ago... he didn't want to be a burden.

"I..." he started, then shook his head. "How... how did you know...?"

The Auror sighed, "There has been far too much enigmatical, dark and... iniquitous activity lately for you to have not been having _any_ visions, regardless of the dreamless sleeping potion I assume you've been taking, or the wards I placed around your room..." she shook her head, "My... resources tell me that the Dark Lord is still gathering his strength, and probably won't make his presence known for some time yet... but he is still regaining his former strength, influence and power... and his followers haven't been entirely quiescent..." Her vivid emerald eyes held his own, identical pair. "I understand they tortured a small Muggle family last night... did you see anything?"

Harry closed his eyes, swallowing slightly, before nodding. He remembered that poor family all too well... it had been _horrible_... 

A young couple in their early twenties held under the Cruciatus curse for nearly a half-an-hour... their six-year-old had been fortunate enough to be capable of surviving little more than ten minutes of the treatment... 

And he had felt it all...

Not just the young families pain... their confusion... and fear...

But he had been viewing it through Voldemort's eyes... and he'd been forced to feel the sheer _pleasure_ the monster took in the activity... Which had had him on the floor of his bathroom emptying the contents of his stomach from supper into the toilet the moment he was free of the vision and capable of moving... he almost hadn't made it...

"Harry?"

He opened his eyes, staring searchingly into his sister's, only slightly surprised to find that he was no longer in the chair across from her, but held in her gentle embrace. That was one thing that felt had helped him accept his sister so easily after the initial (shock) of discovering her existence. She understood... more than anyone else he knew... even without the decades that hadn't given Dumbledore his wisdom, the last four years that had bound Ron and Hermione to him as something very near siblings... even though she hadn't been there for nearly his entire life... She understood.

And that was more than enough for him. 

~ * ~

A heavy silence hung over the dinner table in the dining room of number twelve, Grimmauld Place, London. Ron bit his lip lightly, and shifted his weight nervously as everyone stared at him. Hermione didn't look nearly as nervous as he felt, but he could see that her knuckles were a little too white where they were wrapped around her eating utensils. 

"You are aware, I presume," Professor Dumbledore inquired, his gaze lacking the slight spark of humor they were all so used to seeing there, "of the seriousness of this accusation?"

"Of course we are, sir," Hermione replied, cutting in before Ron could make an attempt to. "But it just makes so much _sense!_"

"They're right on that point..." Remus offered, taking a small sip from the mug of tea he'd chosen to take with supper.

Madam Vance nodded, her emerald shawl drooping slightly. "Yes," she agreed, shaking her head. "It does make sense... It would certainly explain why an Auror of Potier's stature and repute would be interested in a shunned case..."

"Yes... I..." Professor McGonagall sighed, meeting the Headmaster's eyes. "I suppose it would be wise if we were to at least investigate the possibility..."

After a moment, Dumbledore nodded. "Of course..."

~ * ~

After several moments of holding her younger brother in a comforting embrace, Vivian sighed. "I think that I may know of a way to help you, Harry."

"What?" Harry asked, blinking up at her confusedly. "What'd you mean?"

"If you like... I could begin training you in Occlumency..."

"Occlu-what?" the teen inquired, blinking.

Vivian smiled slightly, "Occlumency, Harry. The magical defense of the mind against external penetration. An obscure, but highly useful branch of magic..."

"'Magical defense of the mind'?" Harry repeated.

"Yes," the Auror nodded, "You see... magic can be harnessed in many ways... but, the bottom line is the will of the caster.... It is said that Merlin was once quoted saying, 'Magic is really very simple. All you have to do is want something... and let yourself have it.' And, technically that is quite true. It certainly isn't that simple, as you have to be magically strong enough to enforce your will, and you have to be physically healthy enough to harness that necessary power." She sighed, pausing for a moment, before continuing. "As I'm sure you've realized, witches and wizards are not all equal... we all have our strengths and weaknesses, some more than others... There are some who are strong enough to use their magic on will, without the use of a wand... They are almost as rare as Parselmouths... It takes a great deal of training, and it certainly isn't easy..."

"Then why would I be able to do it?" Harry asked, half-wishing that he hadn't ask, because he wasn't sure he really wanted to hear the answer.

Vivian met his eyes and held them, her gaze serious. "Because you are not an average wizard, Harry... As much as you try not to be... you're special, you always have been..." she shook her head, "Plus, I am rather accomplished with Occlumency, so there's a good chance you'll be able to pick it up rather quickly... I did." Again, she shook her head slightly. "And I'm not going to be teaching you wandless magic... not yet, anyway. I'm still studying that myself, and while I can do more than most I'm certainly no expert... Occlumency is simply the strengthening of natural defense, it isn't hard to learn if you really want to learn it."

Harry remained silent for several moments before he looked up, meeting her eyes. "Where do we start?"

"Tomorrow." His sister replied.

He blinked, "_What?_"

"Right now, we'd best be heading to the dining room." Vivian smiled, "Aunt Petunia put so much work into your Birthday Supper... I'd hate to see it wasted..."

~ * ~

It was early the next morning that saw a large gathering before the large fireplace at the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix. The gathering consisted of all of the Weasleys, Professors McGonagall and Snape, the Headmaster, Ex-Aurors Figg and Moody, Remus and Sirius (as Snuffles the dog); everyone closely associated with the search for Harry Potter.

Mrs. Weasley frowned, shaking her head as she surveyed the many redheads in the group. "I still don't think it's a good idea for the children to come..." she insisted.

"Oh, come on, Mum!" Fred whined before anyone else could respond, "we've been helping the whole time with the search!"

"Yeah!" George agreed, "It wouldn't be fair of you to leave us behind now!"

"Perhaps not fair," Mrs. Weasley sniffed, "but it would be _smart_."

"They have been quite helpful up to now, Molly," Remus offered quietly. 

"And besides," Ginny jumped in, "it's not like we're Flooing into a Death Eater's house!"

Everyone looked at her.

"What?" She asked, "I _like_ Vivian!"

"We all do," Dumbledore agreed nodding, his eyes a little sad.

"But she could still be a Death Eater." Bill cut in, sighing.

"It is always possible," Snape agreed, "but very unlikely... considering the Dark Lords reaction to her... and to Potter's disappearance... It _could_ always be a very elaborately designed trap... but that is unlikely."

"Although it would explain why she was having lunch with the Malfoys," Percy cut in.

Everyone shifted uncomfortably at that. They'd never confronted Vivian after seeing her there... but they'd all wondered.

Dumbledore shook his head, "Innocent until proven guilty... Now," he tossed a handful of Floo powder into the fireplace and annunciated, "The Potier Manor." When green flames filled the fireplace, he glanced at the Grim-like dog, "Snuffles?"

'Snuffles' immediately barked, and ran into the flames, which then burst even higher up before disappearing.

The Headmaster held the bag of Floo powder out to Remus.

__

End of Chapter 7.

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AN: Well, that's it for Chapter 7! Sorry for the wait, and I hope everyone liked it! 

Translations:

Consanguina - related by blood (Latin)

Response to reviews (Ch.6);

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Rachel A. Prongs – I'm glad, and thank you. ^_^

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Xirleb70 – Yes, HP5 was certainly different, wasn't it?... I haven't decided if I _really_ like it yet... some parts of it were fantastic... others... *shrugs*, I don't know...

LOL, yes, I've been thinking of having a friend who _has_ had some experience with martial arts help me rewrite that scene... I tried, but it wasn't really up to par....

How did the family function go? Was it worth the grimace? Stuff like that ushually is, but you never know...

I'm glad you liked the chapter. What'd you think of this one?

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Everpresent – Hi! ^_^

Yeah, I started this knowing that I would be working on it when HP5 came out, so I was trying to be careful in certain aspects of it... I've changed a few things because of the book, but there weren't _too_ many problems...

LOL... Yes, the "new campaign" was somewhat of a homage to HP5, I guess... although I had actually already had something to that effect planned out, it was really easy to write following HP5's guidelines...

Uh-huh... I love writing, and I've come to enjoy writing fan fiction in particular, but my greatest flaw as a writer is that I'm not organized enough to write a good short story... I can write good stories... but they take awhile.

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Liedral – Thank you, I'm glad you like it.... LOL, that's always a possibility... ^_~ 

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Pheonixrising – Thank you. Yes, the visit to the Malfoy Manor should be interesting... once we get there... They're a little preoccupied, but... they should remember that little fact pretty soon...

I liked parts of HP5 to, but there were some parts I'm not too sure of. Dumbledore's explanation was _definitely_ one of them... 

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Siri Kat – LOL... Thank you. ^_^

No, you're right, French definitely isn't my first language, it's not even a second language really, I don't know that much at all... My parents are semi-fluent, and I have been to France and whatnot before, but I'm far from fluent. Any more advice would be appreciated.

I'm glad you liked it, and I'm sorry it took so long to update... I actually wanted to update yesterday... but FF.net would let me sign in! 

Yeah, HP5 was definitely more mature than the others... darker too... but I'm still pretty much 50-50 on it.... 

Thanks for reviewing! 

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AND PLEASE REVIEW THIS CHAPTER!!!

Bye! ^_^

~ **Jess S**


	9. Chapter 8: Confrontations, Questions & S...

Disclaimer: I own the plot, I apologize if it's been done before. Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.  
  
AN: Hi! Real AN at the end! Enjoy!

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Consanguina by Jess S  
  
**Chapter 8: Confrontations, Questions & Sightings**

Harry sighed as he finished his meal, setting his fork down so that it was balanced precariously on the edge of the plate, that way it wouldn't fall into the plate, where his leftovers were, or off the plate onto the table cloth. "Thank you, Aunt Petunia," he smiled, "that was wonderful."

"Your welcome, Harry." His Aunt smiled in response, her light-blue eyes alight with happiness at her nephews pleasure.

They sat in silence for a several moments after that, then Vivian decided to break it.

"What's wrong, Harry?" she asked, her vivid green eyes focused on him as she took a sip of her second glass of 1998 Chateau-Neuf de Pape for the evening.

Harry remained silent for several moments afterward, but soon decided that his sister wasn't going to let the matter drop, so he replied. "I'm sorry, all of this really is wonderful..." he paused, frowning. "It's just that..." he shook his head.

"You miss your friends." The Auror guessed.

After a moment, the teen nodded.

"Understandable." She continued gently. "Don't worry, Harry. You'll see your friends again."

"But... how?" Harry shook his head, "I mean... as long as the spell is still active no one would believe us if we told them you were my sister... and if I can't tell them that, then I can't explain why we left willingly and remained with you all summer..."

"You won't have to."

"What do you-" Harry started, but was cut off by the arrival of slightly panicked house elf.

"Milady! Milady!"

Vivian frowned, "What is it, Berry?" she asked, taking in her servant's lack of composure. "What's wrong?"

"Berry is sorry to interrupt, Milady! Berry will punish himself soon, Milady! Berry is-"

"Don't be ridiculous," Vivian shook her head, "You know I don't believe in those foolish traditions, Berry. And I forbid you to harm yourself in any way because of this. Now, surely you had a reason for interrupting us?"

The house elf's head bobbed and down repeatedly as he nodded. "Yes! Yes! Berry does have reason, Milady! Berry does!" 

"Well?" Vivian raised an eyebrow, looking slightly amused now. "What is it?"

"Milady has guests!" Berry replied.

"Guests?" the Auror frowned, "I don't recall any scheduled appointments."

"They just arrived through the Floo Network, Lady! They say they are sorry for having to disturb you, but they must speak with you immediately! They say it is very important." The house elf bowed again. "Berry is sorry for disturbing the Family, Milady! Berry did not know what to do!"

Vivian waved a hand, "Don't be ridiculous, you were right to come inform me. Do you know who it is?"

Berry, the house elf bowed again. "Berry did not ask, Milady. But Berry recognized Mr. Moody and Mrs. Figg and Mr. Dumbledore, the Hogwarts Headmaster! And there are other adults too, and a large Black Dog with a magical aura. And many wizards with red hair, and two witches with red hair. And a girl the Lord's age with bushy brown hair." He informed her.

Vivian sighed, shaking her head. "I suppose it was only to be expected." She smiled at her younger brother and her aunt. "Honestly, I'm surprised they didn't show up sooner. They had to grow somewhat suspicious at some point..." she shook her head. "I'm sorry, Harry. We will have to finish this discussion later."

Harry nodded, "Of course."

The witch then smiled at her aunt, "And thank you, Aunt Petunia. Harry was right, the meal was wonderful."

Petunia blushed slightly, nodding in reply. "Thank you."

Still smiling slightly, Vivian rose to her feet. "Now, both of you remember the rules?"

Both nodded. They'd been given a thorough tour of the Manor not long after arriving, and had been surprised to find how complex it was, and how easy it was to keep someone hidden. It had been an enlightening experience for Harry. After all, this was the type of place most Slytherin's boasted of living in. So it wasn't any surprise that all of Mr. Weasley's raids hadn't managed to bring up anything that they could bring 'suspected' Death Eaters, like the Malfoys, in for.

"Good," Vivian nodded. "Have a nice evening. Harry, I'll come to see you in a few hours, if you like. We could finish this conversation then."

Harry nodded, and then watched as the only living member of his immediate family glided from the room. 

~ * ~

"Wow..." Ginny murmured after a moments silence.

The others nodded staring around the room in awe. None of them had been prepared for the sheer splendor of their colleague's home. It was certain; they had no doubt, that few could ever claim to have a home anywhere near as luxurious as the 'Potier' Manor. 

The fireplace they'd come out of was clearly made, or perhaps redesigned, for the purpose of Flooing. It's opening was probably six feet across, and no less than fifteen feet tall. Although the chimney was made of pale gray stones, the steps that led up to them were of fine marble, which only end when it reached the exquisitely polished wooden floor they all now stood upon. 

The room wasn't circular, for it was more of an oval shape; the large double-doorway the house elf had run through a short time before located directly across from the fireplace. A large ovular rug was placed in the center of the room. It was a soft, gentle green shade, given a majestic appearance by the fine, golden designs placed upon it. There were several armchairs along the walls, large, well-cushioned ones with soft, white leather. 

At first glance, you probably would have found the paintings along the walls rather strange, for they didn't move. There were four paintings in all, and not one of them was a Wizarding painting. Rather strange, for a Wizarding home... All four were lovely though, clearly the work of a master, soothing landscapes that looked just as they were meant to... These paintings shouldn't move, for then they would lose their purpose. Each painting was of the exact same landscape, painted at different times of the day; catching the moment.

"My... I might have to look at some of the Muggle art galleries after all." Arabella murmured, "These are quite lovely..."

"Aren't they?"

All present turned from admiring the artwork to the young Auror who had just swept in, a welcoming smile gracing her fair face. 

"I've always been rather fond of them." Vivian informed her visitors, gazing at one of the paintings for a moment, before turning back to the party. "To what do I owe this pleasure?" She didn't miss the tense silence that followed her inquiry, although she gave no sign of noticing it, her smile not slipping in slightest.

"Miss Potier..." Dumbledore sighed, "I do apologize for calling on you at this hour, but I am afraid this simply could not wait."

Vivian raised an eyebrow slightly. "Oh, of course." She replied, still smiling as she waived her hand gently. "And the hour means nothing, I assure you. I've been an Auror for too long to carry about minute details. Furthermore, friends are always welcome here."

Almost all present had to hold back a cringe at this. They all felt bad for mistrusting the young woman, but they couldn't overlook the possibility that she could simply be acting.

After a moment of carefully gauging their _almost_ flawlessly hidden reactions, Vivian shook her head. "Perhaps this conversation would proceed more smoothly in more comfortable settings." She offered, turning around and walking to the door, glancing back at them when they did not follow. "If you'll follow me, please?"

The Hogwarts Headmaster immediately nodded, walking to the door. And with a small amount of hesitation, the others followed him. 

~ * ~

"I understand that your family had lunch with General Potier and her brother not long ago," Voldemort began, his demonic gaze betraying no emotion whatsoever. "Is that true, Lucius?"

"Yes, my Lord." Lucius Malfoy replied with a bow as he stepped forward out of the crowd.

"Did you learn anything from her?" the Dark Lord demanded.

"Very little, my Lord." The tall, regal Death Eater answered immediately, his soft, aristocratic tones revealing no more than the Dark Lord's gaze did. "She would not speak much of Potter's case, but she did admit that they've been making little progress."

"That confirms Severus report, then," Voldemort nodded, "perhaps I should give him more faith. He has proven himself worthy of it thus far. Don't you agree, Lucius?"

"I do not doubt your judgement is just, my Lord."

"Of course," the Heir of Slytherin nodded in approval, before focusing on his most august servant once again. "And what of the General herself?"

"General Potier is a very competent and thorough investigator, and exceptional politician as well. Her department is second to none, as she herself is often said to be." The masked Malfoy replied readily. 

"And how much of a threat do you professionally believe her to be?"

"Should she choose to be," Malfoy replied, "she would undoubtedly be a considerable one."

"Ahh... very well, then." The Dark Lord incorporated this for a moment, before continuing. "Continue to keep an eye on her, and stay in her good graces."

"As you wish," the Death Eater bowed, "my Lord."

~ * ~

The parlor that Vivian led them to was no less impressive than the entrance hall or the corridor that had preceded it. An exquisite, ovular, Persian rug covered the consummately polished wood floor beneath her desk and the two chairs in front of it. Bookcases serried with a wide variety of Wizarding items stretched from the floor to the ceiling on the right and left walls of the room, starting along the wall the door was in and going down to the far wall, and around the corner until the reached the large windows. There were bookcases underneath the window as well, and they were also full. You couldn't, however, walk right up to any of these bookcases and just take something off the shelves. Glistening glass doors, which were undoubtedly heavily enchanted and warded, would thwart such action.

As she entered, Vivian waved her wand, before re-sheathing it, and suddenly, instead of two chairs before her desk, there were eighteen. There was also a large, well-padded footrest right up by the front, next to one of the chairs, clearly not for its namesake purpose. 

"Please," Vivian gestured to the chairs as she walked around her desk and sat down. "Have a seat." When all of them had complied she raised an eyebrow at 'Snuffles' and nodded to the footrest. "That was for you, you know."

'Snuffles' stared at her a moment, clearly surprised, before jumping up onto the footrest and curling up on it, yipping his thanks as he did so.

After shaking her head in amusement, Vivian turned back to her audience. "Now, how may I be of service?"

This time, Professor McGonagall decided to speak before the strained silence became too disheartening. "Miss Potier... it has come to our attention that you may be withholding, or altering evidence pertinent to Mr. Potter's procuration..."

Vivian blinking, and then raised an eyebrow. "Withholding evidence?" she chuckled slightly, "_What_ evidence? There isn't any!"

"Precisely. And as everything recovered comes through us through you."

The Auror just looked at her, her expression perfectly neutral, with the exception of the spark of amusement in her emerald eyes. 

"Is it not possible, Miss Potier," Snape began, "that you may have overlooked some of the evidence your department has brought in while reviewing other case files?"

"It is possible," Vivian shrugged, "but very unlikely, considering I have ten house elves and six highly-qualified assistants making sure I don't do any such thing." Before anyone else could speak, she continued, "I think, perhaps, what you are really interested in, is if I am 'altering' any of the evidence, at the Minister, or perhaps Lord Voldemort's direction."

Many of her guest's shuddered when she said the Dark Lord's name, but then blinked when the realized what she had just said.

"So you believe he's returned?" Hermione asked excitedly. After all, there were very few people who did, and the higher you went in Ministry ranks, the harder it was to convince them. At least, that was what the Order members had been telling them.

Vivian gazed at her for a moment, before nodding.

The Order member's digested this new information warily, eyeing each other questioningly. Just as Hermione had been excited to hear of this admittance, so were they. As Fudge's media campaign continued it was becoming increasingly difficult to convince people of Voldemort's rebirth. 

"Why?"

The Auror turned to Ginny, "I beg you pardon?"

"Why do you believe... he's back? Hardly anyone else does." Ginny inquired, frowning.

"Oh, you'd be surprised." Vivian replied. "I know, for a fact, every member of my department knows he's back, regardless of the Minister's claims... There has been far too much Dark activity as of late to believe otherwise... Of course, I have other ways of knowing," she shrugged, "and I'd like to think I'm not a fool."

Suddenly, a burst of orange light drew everyone's eyes to one of the gadgets on Vivian's exquisite desk. It lasted only a moment before fading, until only the palm size paperweight was glowing orange.

"What's that?" Fred - or maybe it was George - asked, looking up at the Auror, who had already risen from her seat, her eyes on the magical item.

After a moment, Vivian turned attention back to her guests, and sighed. "I do apologize, but I'm afraid I must be leaving." She frowned slightly, her brow creased in consternation. "If it would ease your concerns, I believe at least two of my secretaries are still on duty. And she would be happy to take through all of the material that has been collected for Mr. Potter's case."

"That would be most helpful," Arabella nodded replied, quickly rising herself, the others following suit. "Code orange?" she asked, nodding to the paperweight.

Vivian only nodded in reply, leading them out of the study. 

Once the door had closed behind them, and the study was unoccupied, the eighteen chairs Vivian had created for her guest drifted sulkily together until there were only two chairs left once more. The footrest the 'Snuffles' had been seated on simply vanished. 

~ * ~

Less than a half an hour later found the group crossing the Ministry of Magic's lustrous entrance hall. As the passed the Fountain of Magical Brethren; a fountain with five life-size, glittering golden statues in the center, Vivian pulled a bag about the size of her fist out of one of her robes many pockets and tossed it at the fountain. It soared over to it, and when it was just above the water's surface, the golden string that held the green silk cloth shut came undone and the bag turned over, releasing a shower of golden coins. Then the now empty bad soared back into Vivian's hand just as they'd reached the other side of the fountain.

"What'd she do that for?" Ginny whispered to Hermione and her brother, while staring up at the strikingly glamorous waterworks in awe.

Hermione frowned for a moment, before spotting the small, smudged sign beside the fountain. She nodded to it, drawing her friend's attention to it.

**__**

All proceeds from the Fountain of Magical Brethren will be given to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries

"Oh..." Ginny murmured, and, after a moment's consideration, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a handful of Knuts and a few Sickles and quickly threw all of the Knuts and a few of the Sickles into the Fountain. Hermione and Ron did the same, while hurrying to keep up with the rest of the group. 

"Don't we need to go through Security?" Professor McGonagall asked as they neared the golden gates that were obviously the actual entrance to the MM. 

Vivian shook her head, "Not with me, you don't." She replied, as they stepped through gateway and into the smaller hall beyond. There, at least twenty lifts were positioned in various stages of usage. But the Auror shook her head when they started to move towards the lifts, "This way," she said, turning off to the right and leading them past the elevators into another lesser hall. 

At the end of the hallway they came to a small room with four elevators on the opposite wall. 

As they neared the lifts, one of the doors open, and two wizards in robes similar to Vivian's came out. Both bowed slightly when they saw Vivian, and she offered a smile in return.

"Heading home, Derick?"

The middle aged Auror nodded, "_Finally..._"

"Long day?" Vivian chuckled as she led her guests into the elevator, keeping her eyes focused on the older Auror. 

Derick rolled his eyes, "As usual."

"Well, have a good evening, then. Tomorrow will be no different."

The wizard nodded, bowing slightly again before turning on his heel and crossing the room to the exit. 

"Anything interesting as of late, Richard?" Vivian asked, turning her attention to the younger wizard who'd followed him into the elevator. He looked to be close to her age, but he didn't have anywhere _near_ the amount of sheer presence she had.

Richard shook his head, "Quiet as a tomb on this end... except for the mummy that Goldenross brought in around noon." He replied, while pulling out a large silver key that was attached to the thick golden chain around his neck, and placing it in the lock above the key panel he stood beside. 

"Another one?" Vivian blinked, then shook her head. "Well, his report should be interesting... How he's managed to find thirteen mummies this far from Egypt baffles me. Regardless of the black market."

Almost all of her guests blinked at that.

"There's a black market for mummies?" Charlie asked.

Vivian nodded, "Umm-hmm. Nobility usually goes for ten thousand Galleons and up, royalty's anything over twenty-five Galleons." She then turned her attention back to the lift operator. "Just the main entrance, please."

Richard nodded, "Yes, ma'am." He replied, pushing the largest button on the now lit up panel, and turning the key as he did so. 

Only the feeling of their stomachs dropping slightly told the group that the lift was now moving upward, which caused many of them to blink.

"What...?" Percy asked, but stopped, not quite sure of what he was asking, before looking at Vivian.

The Auror smiled slightly, "I have my department's lifts upgraded every year. This is a model we bought from an American Muggle company. Nice, isn't it? We'll be upgrading again in a few weeks time."

"This is a Muggle invention?" Mrs. Weasley asked, sending her husband a look to keep him quiet even as excitement first began to make its way across his face.

"Yes, it is. The next upgrade is too, but it'll be a bit more elegant."

"More elegant?" Hermione asked, looking around. "What's wrong with this one?"

"Oh, nothing... I just like the other one more, and I can afford to upgrade it-"

"-_Easily,_" Richard coughed.

"So I'm having it upgraded." Vivian finished, glaring at the operator.

Richard smiled slightly, "You do know that this upgrade will be only five months after the last one, right?"

Vivian shrugged. "I like it!" she defended, only the spark in her eyes matching the playful, youthful quality of her words.

Now, Richard didn't even attempt to stop himself from laughing. "Did you really find the new upgrade when you were working on that assignment with Mr. Malfoy in America?"

"In New York City? Yes," Vivian replied, not noticing or ignoring how the others had stiffened slightly at the mention of the elder Malfoy.

"And did you really make him ride up in down in that thing for an hour and a half?" 

"Two hours, actually."

Richard broke out laughing again. "Is that why he was glaring at you every time you saw him for several weeks after that?"

"Probably," Vivian shrugged, "I don't see why he didn't like it, it really was a wonderful view... and we were only five minutes late for the meeting."

"Why did he even bother waiting through it?" the operator asked, "Why didn't he just Apparate?"

"And have to listen to me tease him about it for weeks to come?" Vivian raised an eyebrow, "Lucius Malfoy would never want that."

"So how did you keep him there for two hours?" 

Vivian shrugged, "We were trying to find the floor the meeting was on... and that isn't the easiest thing to do in a one-hundred-floor-plus skyscraper. Mr. Malfoy sent to his secretary for what floor it was after about a half and hour, it took her an hour to find out and reply, and then it took a half an hour to get up to that floor... because I'd happened to push quite a few buttons..."

Now, everyone was staring at her. However, before they could say anything, the lift came to a stop and the wall behind them opened up.

Richard cleared his throat, "Level twelve, Main floor of side Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Auror Headquarters."

"Thank you, Richard," Vivian nodded, leading them off the lift and down the marble steps that it had opened up onto. This entrance hall was very similar, but different, in comparison to the Ministry of Magic's Entrance Hall. The floor underneath their feet was dark, highly waxed and polished wood, and their was a fountain in the center of the room as well. This fountain was actually smaller than the Fountain of Magical Brethren, and it had several life-size statues as well. These statues were, however, made of silver and the fountain they stood atop was white marble. There were ten statues, positioned as if they were meant to be walking in a circle, all of their wands raised and pointed towards the air above the center of the circle, where their faces were also turned, while their robes were blown onward by an unseen wind.

"The _Circle of Nitor-Arma_," Professor Dumbledore murmured, as he and all of the others stared at the glittering masterpiece in awe.

Vivian nodded, "Yes, I thought it suitable for this Department..."

"Indeed, it is." Dumbledore agreed, his eyes now resting on the young Auror, searching.

"What's the Circle of Nightarma?" Ginny asked, even as she stared at the silver statues in awe. 

"The _Circle of Nitor-Arma_," Vivian replied, "is one of the few ancient ritual-spell casting's that is still reasonably well known. Its purpose is to heighten a witch or wizards magical ability ten-fold. It has not been successfully cast in over five-hundred years."

"Why not?" Hermione asked, interested in learning more about a topic that was incredibly scarce in spell books. She had heard of the _Circle_ in passing, but had never been able to find a great deal of information on it.

"It is very difficult to cast even when it's _possible_," seeing the blank looks on almost all of her guest's faces, Vivian chuckled. "It is only possible when all eleven participants are not only powerful enough to cast it, but they also must trust each other completely, and must be _completely_ willing to risk everything."

"'_Eleven_' participants?" Ron asked, nodding to the fountain, "There's only ten there."

Vivian nodded, "Yes... only ten are necessary to cast the spell... the eleventh participant is the recipient. They may not even know of the casting, but as long as they trust all of those involved, it will still work. The casters don't even have to know where the eleventh is or what they're doing, all they need is a mental image of the beneficiary..." after a moment, she shook her. "This way, please." She told them, leading them around the fountain and across the fine wooden floor.

Her guests continued to gaze around themselves in awe. The sides of the entrance hall were white marble columns that continued upward for two floors, where they held the first of the three upper floors in place. They could see Aurors moving about on the balconies above, some going into while others exited different office doors.

They followed Vivian up the marble steps to the first upper level, where she led them over to an elevator. The elevator was already there, and the doors slid open as they neared, so she led them aboard. Once all were inside, Vivian pushed the upper button on the panel of two, which had an arrow pointing up on it.

Just like the previous elevator ride, they heard nothing and barely felt anything as the lift began to rise, but there was plenty to see. The walls of the elevator were glass, and they offered a view of the entire department entrance hall as they rose above it.

"It's beautiful..." Hermione complimented, while the others nodded in agreement. She looked at Vivian, "Did you design it?"

The Auror shrugged, "I had a hand in it, but most of it was of it was Ria's work."

Then the elevator rose into a dark, walled in area, and they couldn't see the view anymore. It stopped a moment later, and the doors opened to reveal what appeared to be another reception area, this one much smaller, but no less pictorial than its predecessor. The floor was adorned with a soft, creamy-white carpet, and there were four well-padded benches along each wall, which was a dark green with red borders. On the right side of the room, before the benches, was a closed side door. Past the benches was one large, well-organized desk, which was currently unoccupied. Beyond the desk were seven doors, one set of double-doors on the opposite end of the room and three doors along each wall. The nearest two doors were open, and a moment after the elevator doors slid open two witches came out of each room, regardless of the fact that the doors made no sound whatsoever.

The group followed Vivian out of the elevator and into the room, where she nodded to the other witches. "Eileen, Janna."

"General," both witches replied, bowing slightly.

Vivian glanced back at the group, "Allow me to introduce Major Eileen Lufkin, by third in command, and Captain Janna Vindictus, fourth in command." She turned her attention back to the other two. "They would like to see what we've gathered on the Potter case." 

Both witches bowed again. "Very well, ma'am." They replied, before turning on their heels and hurrying through a side door.

"They'll bring the materials back here in a moment," Vivian smiled back at the group, most of whom were still staring around them in awe. The Hogwarts Professors, however, were looking at the two 'secretary' carefully. "You may remember Eileen and Janna from school. They were both Prefects."

The Professor's nodded, recognition dawning in their eyes.

"What houses were they in?" Ginny asked, curious.

"Eileen was in Ravenclaw; nineteen-eight-three to nineteen-ninety, and Janna was in Slytherin; nineteen-eighty-four to nineteen-ninety-one."

Snape smirked when almost all of the redheaded children visibly suppressed a wince.

"You have six assistants?" Professor McGonagall inquired, nodding to the desks.

"Yes," Vivian nodded, and began listing them. "General Dearborn, Gryffindor nineteen-seventy-one to nineteen-seventy-eight, first in command. Colonel Vasser, Beauxbatons nineteen-seventy-five to nineteen-eighty-two, second in command. Eileen and Janna. Captain Bonham, Gryffindor nineteen-eighty-five to nineteen-ninety-two, fifth in command. And Master Sergeant Volkov, Drumstrang nineteen-seventy-eight to nineteen-ninety-four."

This list seemed to appease the Weasley children, as there were two Gryffindors in it, to make up for the Slytherin. Before they could comment, the side door opened again, and Lufkin and Vindictus came through, several boxes floating beside and behind them, at wand point.

"General Willow is waiting for you in your office, ma'am." Vindictus told Vivian as they reached the group, waving their wands to direct the boxes onto the two nearest benches. 

"Thank you, Janna." Vivian nodded, "They have standard; priority access, which I believe covers everything there. If not, feel free to contact me."

"Of course, General." The brunette replied with a nod.

Vivian then offered the group a nod before quickly crossing the room and passing through the double doors, which had opened at her approach, and closed after she had passes through.

The two Ministry officers quickly turned their attention back to the visitors.

"Shall we?" Captain Vindictus inquired, here pale green eyes unreadable. 

~ * ~

Vivian's office was no less impressive than the entry hall. With the same, soft white carpet and dark green walls, which had gold borders, instead of red. Directly opposite the door a desk similar to the one outside, just slightly more regal, was positioned in front of a set of an impressive set of windows that stretched from the floor to the ceiling. Much like her main study back at the manor, waist-high bookcases lined the walls, starting at the door and going all the way around the room until they reached the window. A long panel of mirrors broke up the space between the top of the bookcase and the gold lined ceiling. Also resembling her home study, was the set up around the desk. Eight chairs, not quite as fine the leather-padded highback behind the desk, were positioned in front of the desk, one of them was occupied.

That occupant was the only thing the Auror paid any mind to as she entered the room, her dazzling green eyes focusing on the tense young woman as she heard the doors swung shut behind her. "What is it, Ria?"

"A sighting."

"A sighing?" Vivian frowned, "of whom? Sightings are hardly ever code orange material."

"I know," the blonde nodded, "but I thought this one might interest you."

"Oh?" the witch replied, her gaze curious as she watched her best friend. "And, who pray tell is it that would mark such attention?"

"Peter Pettigrew."

~ * ~

"What's this?" Ron asked, reaching into one of the boxes to pick something up. Captain Vindictus had grabbed his hand and wrenched it out of the box before he had a chance to grab it.

"For future reference, Mr. Weasley," the former Slytherin Prefect began before he could snap at her. "It is rather unwise to reach blindly into enchanted boxes. Particularly when the enchantments have not yet been removed or nullified."

"Oh..." Ron blushed, biting back a sharp retort as both Hermione and his parents sent him disproving looks. "Sorry..." he muttered.

Major Lufkin nodded, picking up what appeared to be a leather-covered notebook, from atop a different box. "This is the case log." She told them, as she opened to the first page. "Where we keep a full account of all evidence from the beginning of the case to its closing in court, and anything that may be collected afterward, for future reference." As she finished saying this, her wand, which she'd seemed to be using as a pointer, stopped at something. "According to the log, Mr. Potter's case began on Thursday, July eleventh, nineteen-ninety-five, correct?"

"It is," Professor Dumbledore nodded.

Before Lufkin could continue, Vindictus cut her off, "Oh, for Merlin's sake, Eileen! We don't need to go through the _entire_ case file! Potier _never_ hides that much!"

"Unless it has something to do with her personal life or family," the dark haired witch agreed, not appearing the least bit offended by her colleague's interruption.

"What'd you mean?" Hermione asked before they could continue.

Lufkin shrugged, "General Potier's never liked anyone digging into her personal life, or anything about her family. Not surprising really, and it's really become somewhat of a department policy; _Don't ask_. It's safer that way, anyhow."

"Why?" Ron asked, appearing confused.

"Because, she's a high ranking Ministry official. And she's an Aurors. We don't like people knowing much about us."

Seeing that Ron still looked confused, Vindictus picked up where the other had left off. "The people we generally deal with are dark arts practitioners."

"Oh..." was all Ron got out before the groups attention was drawn elsewhere.

For at that very moment, the doors to Vivian's office had swung open again and the two Generals who'd been conferring inside exited, heading for the elevator at a rather rapid pace. As they neared the group, Vivian turned her head slightly toward them, focusing on her two assistants.

"Janna, could you pull up the Black case file for me?"

Vindictus nodded, and quickly left the room through the side door, not bothering to shut it behind her.

All of the 'guests' had frozen at Vivian's words, and were now visibly trying to calm themselves down.

"The 'Black case file'?" Professor McGonagall quoted. "That wouldn't happen to be applying to Sirius Black, would it?"

"Actually, yes," Vivian replied with a nod, her eyes not quite stopping on the large black dog as she looked at the group. "It is."

"Why?" Mrs. Weasley asked, "What happened?"

The Auror looked at her for a moment, before replying. "A sighting, it will need to be recorded in his case file, whether he's caught or not."

"Why?" Ron asked, moving slightly towards 'Snuffles', almost protectively. "Black?" 

"No," Vivian shook her head. "Sirius Black... has remained as allusive as ever, as of late."

"Then who?" Remus asked, clearly confused. "If it's not someone saying they've seen him, than what could possibly apply to his case...?"

Vivian shook her head, her emerald eyes amused, "I think you, in particular, shouldn't have so hard a time figuring it out, Mr. Lupin. Anymore than Miss Granger or Mr. Weasley."

"What...?" Remus began, but stopped when the side door swung open again, and the Auror Captain came through.

Vindictus stopped once she'd reach them. The notebook she was carrying was similar to the one on Harry's case, but it was quite a bit fuller. Whereas only a few pages had been filled in Harry's log, at least two thirds of this notebook were filled. The Captain had opened the book that far, and had a quill poised over the next blank space. "General?" she asked, clearly seeking what it was she was supposed to record.

"Peter Pettigrew was sighted at Kings Cross, Platform seven and three quarters, at ten past eight." Vivian told her, before heading to the elevator. As she stepped through the opening doors, she called over her shoulder. "Have a team ready to guard the thirteenth interrogation chamber. And I'll need a fresh batch of Veritaserum and a representative from the Unspeakables present."

"Yes, General." Both assistants replied, as Vindictus finished recording:

**__**

Sighting: Kings Cross, Platform 7 3/4 - 8:10 - Peter Pettigrew

The elevator doors slid shut behind the two Generals before any of the 'guests' could think to ask anything further.

End of Chapter 8. 

Translations:

Consanguina - related by blood (Latin)

Nitor - to trust in/depend on

Arma - military power; protection, defense

AN: Well, that's it for Chapter 8! What'd you think? 

...It wasn't _that_ bad, was it? And the wait wasn't _too_ horrendous... right?

Response to Reviews:

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Apple Reaper - Thank you. That's good to hear... I wasn't entirely sure. I thought I might of skimmed over it too much.

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Pheonixrising - Thank you.... hmm... that may be answered in the next chapter, I'm not sure... but, well... you'll have to wait and see! ^_~

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Xirleb70 - LOL, yes that does fit it, doesn't it?

LOL, well, look on the bright side; at least it's over! 

Thank you, that's always good to hear... ^_^

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Everpresent - LOL, yes, new chapters are always nice, aren't they?...Unless they ruin the story... I _hate_ it when _that_ happens! How was this one?

Well excuuse me! I like cliffhangers! :P (Writing them, at least...) 

LOL... I don't know. Aunt Petunia being afraid of/not liking the house elves just sort of popped into my head when I was writing one of the earlier chapters... and it stuck. I'll probably come up with a reason for it later...

Sorry if the b-day 'party' was a disappointment, but what you were probably thinking of happening (and don't think I didn't consider it!) was a little too soon for the plot.  
  
Hmm... Well, I'm not merging everything from Bk5 in, but I am going to be bringing quite a bit in. I suppose it could be a bit confusing, but... that's part of what makes it interesting, isn't it?   
  
You're welcome, and thank you! ^_^ 

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Siri Kat - LOL, don't worry about it. I do that too.... It's one of the reasons I write reply's, it's always nice to see that an author _does_ care about your review, and I ask you to take they time to review, so I figure I should take the time to reply to that review! (And I really need a life away from the computer... outside of working... *thinks about it for a moment*... or not...)

Thank you. That's good to hear. 

LOL... in case you (and anyone else) hasn't noticed yet, I'll let you in on a little secret... *looks around repeatedly*, *bends down and whispers:* I like cliffhangers... :P

Sorry about the wait. ^_^ 

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Kino - LOL... *glances at reply to Siri Kat*...*shrugs* :P

Thank you. :-D

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ChennaiChica - LOL...

Sorry for the wait.

THANK YOU!!! :D I **_love_** seeing my stories on fave' lists! It makes me feel _special!_

...hey, hey! Come back! I'm not that strange am I? 

Well, anyway... if your still there... thank you. 

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Rachel A. Prongs - LOL, actually, I did think of that. But they're able to Floo to the "Potier" Manor because of the spell... It was a pretty good spell... it took care of everything! Of course, it could get very ugly when it wears off... but we haven't gotten that far yet, so I'll shut up! ^^

Thank you. I'll be including a bit more, but I'm not sure of how much... yet. 

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DaBear - Thank you. ^_^

Sorry for the wait... Was it worth it? Yes? Maybe? Kinda-maybe? Just a little bit?

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Sunrunner of Summer - (Evil)LOL! ^_^

Thank you. 

Ah! *Ducks & holds hands over head* No hexing! Author can't write if hexed! And... if memory serves me correctly, you're reading five of my fics! So you don't want to hex me! :P

Thanks to all for reviewing!

__

Please **REVIEW THIS CHAPTER!!!**

Bye! ^_^

~ **Jess S**


	10. Chapter 9: To Catch a Rat

Disclaimer: I own the plot, I apologize if it's been done before. Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.  
  
[AN: Hi! Real AN at the end! But, I thought I'd mention that this is how I'll probably be doing Author's Notes (with the exception of the ones at the very end) from now on... Enjoy!]

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Consanguina by Jess S  
  
**Chapter 9: To Catch a Rat**

"Well..." Major Lufkin breathed after watching her commanding officer's departure. "That was certainly interesting." She shook her head, "And I reckon the General will undoubtedly be in a fairly good mood the next time we see her as well, all things considered..."

Captain Vindictus nodded in agreement, but the others looked immensely confused.

"Why?" Hermione asked before anyone else could.

The two Aurors looked at each other, then shrugged.

"The General's been rather interested in the Black case for quite some time." Lufkin replied as she flipped through the Potter case log.

"So?" Ron demanded, "_Everyone's_ been interested in catching him! What with the reward and all..." he foolishly sent an apologetic look 'Snuffles' way. It was foolish because both Aurors noticed, and noted it in the back of their minds.

"On the contrary," Captain Vindictus replied, brushing a loose strand of her long, dark mahogany hair over her shoulder. "Potier's not interested in catching Black, not really."

Several moments of somewhat stunned silence followed that comment.

"She isn't?" Remus asked hesitantly.

"No," Vindictus shook her head, "if she were, he certainly would have been caught by now."

"What'd you mean?" Ron demanded, not able to hold the outburst in at this show of what he thought was Slytherin arrogance.

The captain simply raised an eyebrow at him, leveling her pale green eyes on him. "Simple," she replied coolly, "this department and its head are known as the best for a reason. It's true. We're worth more because we do more, we do it faster, better and more thoroughly than anyone else."

"Why?" Ginny asked, breaking the tense silence before it could grow to any extraordinary height, "Why is it so much better? And aren't you part of the same department as all the other Aurors?"

"_Technically, _yes," Lufkin shrugged, but her dark blue eyes were thoughtful, "but the Department of Magical Law Enforcement is a very large department, so it's broken up into sections, or sectors, whichever you prefer. This sector handles so much more work than all of the other sections combined that it's practically its own department." She paused for a moment before continuing, "And as for why we're so much better than everyone... I'm not entirely sure... we just are."

Vindictus snorted, raising an eyebrow at her superior. "I should think it'd be rather obvious as to why we're better." When everyone, including the Major, looked at her inquiringly, she shook her head. "What's the single most important thing we have, we've had, that did and still does keep us on top? Keeps us going?"

Silence reigned for a moment, before Ron offered a guess. "Your workspace is a lot nicer then everyone else's," he commented, nodding around.

"True," Vindictus nodded, "but that's only a part of the reason.... Even if the other sectors _could_ afford the amount of remodeling this place has gotten, they'd still need someone to push it forward. We have that someone."

"_Potier_," Lufkin murmured.

The Captain nodded, "Right, when you think about it; it all comes back to her."

"It _does?_" Ginny blinked, clearly confused. "How would Vivian have anything to do with your entire sector being more successful then all the others?"

"She's the Head of our Sector." Vindictus replied, "She paid for all of the remodeling. She paid to have everyone _fully_ uniformed, and _then_ made these uniforms," she gestured to the sleek and elegant battle robes she was wearing, "mandatory. She made this place a much nicer place to work in. She raised the salaries in this sector _considerably_ and made sure our department never had any debts, with her own money. She wrote up our sector's health and life insurance policies, and retirement plans _and_ made sure they went through... She made working for this department a _very_ appealing job, so appealing that everyone expected to have to work on higher standards, and therefore didn't object when those standards were enforced." She shrugged, "She did it very subtly, so by the time all of the other sector heads realized how much more appealing her sector was, they'd already lost all of their top of the line workers. And had to make due with those who were left, and therefore couldn't spend the time or money necessary to even begin to compete with her."

"What'd you mean she raised the salaries and all that, with her own money?" Fred - or maybe it was George, not that either Auror would bother thinking that - asked.

"Potier comes from an old, powerful and _very_ wealthy pureblood line. Her inheritance was more than any of us could ever really imagine one person possessing." Lufkin replied, clearly unfazed by the implication of that much wealth.

Mrs. Weasley was not the only one that appeared quite a bit more flabbergasted by that implication. After all, while she might be a little suspicious of the young General at the moment, she expected those suspicions to soon be soothed, and over the short time she'd known the girl, she had found her to be a very likeable person. That mental categorization didn't fit with the object of that much wealth - which was unconsciously shaped after her opinion of the Malfoy family. Nonetheless, that wasn't what she chose to question. "You have health and life insurance, _and_ retirement plans?" she asked, shaking her head, "I thought that was denied to Aurors because it was too expensive for the Ministry to ever possibly handle..."

"The Ministry doesn't pay _any_ of it." This time, it was Captain Vindictus who replied again. "Vivian arranged a whole bunch of special, high interest accounts, with Gringotts. She also created several charity sources and formed a financial council of patrons."

"Patrons? People who pay for this sector?" Hermione guessed.

"Yes."

"Like who?" Ginny asked.

"Oh... well, Potier's the council head, because her donations are rather hard to beat." Lufkin replied, and then paused, trying to think of some others. After a moment, she continued, "I'm not really sure who the others are. It's not really publicized, you see..."

"Lucius Malfoy's a major patron," Vindictus commented. 

All of the 'guests' blinked.

"He _is?_" Mr. Weasley demanded, his tone bordering on repudiate.

"Umm-hmm," the captain nodded, "he donates to just about every branch of the Ministry, but he's particularly generous with ours." She finished, apparently not noticing how uncomfortable this news made the others. "It isn't any wonder, really."

"Yeah, he's probably trying to buy you off..." Ron muttered darkly.

"Buy us off...?" Vindictus blinked, and then started laughing. It took her a while to get control over herself again, while the others stared at her. Finally, she continued. "_Merlin,_ _no!_ Malfoy is many things, but stupid isn't one of them. He _knows_ he can't buy us off on legal matters."

"He _does?_" Ron blinked, "Then why does he...?"

The captain shook her head, "Because his son wants him to be an Auror when he gets out of school, and Lucius Malfoy wants nothing but the best for his son. While we can't be paid to overlook legal issues, the fact that his father makes extensive monthly donations will make the managers pay a little bit more attention to Draco Malfoy's application."

~ * ~

Kings Cross was quite a bit more hectic than usual, when Vivian and Riatanya arrived, accompanied by two squads (of Aurors). Now, while the fact that it _was_ a Friday evening probably didn't help, the actual reason it was like this was rather simple.

"You delayed the trains?" Vivian murmured, not needing to spare a glance to her blonde friend, who was barely a step behind her on the right.

Ria nodded, "Yeah, the Stationmasters said they could delay them for awhile... ah, there they are now," she finished, pointing to two middle-aged men who were hurrying towards them.

Both men were obviously rather important, you could tell that by the way they were dressed. Fine, black suits specially tailored to fit them perfectly gave them a dignified appearance.

"General," the older of the two - at least, it could be safely assumed that he was older, for he had quite a few more gray hairs than the other - nodded to Riatanya. "I hope your not offended, but we really need to get the trains moving again."

Vivian spared him a cool glance, "I understand that quite well, Mr....?"

"Smith," the man replied quickly, "William Smith."

"Ah yes," Vivian nodded, "You are Muggle-born, are you not?"

"I don't see what that has to do with anything, Miss...?"

"Potier," Vivian replied smoothly, "_General_ Potier... Oh, it doesn't really have much relevance, but it might affect how you react to this situation, so it therefore _is_ relevant."

"What do you mean?"

"And you are the Muggle Stationmaster?" Vivian inquired, turning her attention to the younger man, and ignoring the elder's question.

The brunette nodded, his hazel eyes somewhat nervous behind large spectacles. "Yes, John Gardener." 

"A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Gardener," Vivian replied, nodding to him and then nodding to the other as she returned her attention to him. "And you as well, Mr. Smith..." she sighed. "I know your job is to keep this station running smoothly, and I don't doubt that isn't always an easy task. However, there are times when that duty should be overlooked, this is one of them."

Both men blinked, but didn't bother interrupting her, having finally caught on that she was the one in charge, and she wouldn't take no for an answer.

"There is a dangerous man located on one of these platforms," the Auror continued, "we will do everything in our power to capture him quickly, so that you may begin operation again."

"But I don't understand!" Smith objected, "She said the man was on Platform seven and three quarters! We froze the barrier and the Floos connected to that platform, and we activated the anti-Apparation wards! I can understand holding the train on that platform, but to hold the entire station up is _ridiculous!_"

As the wizard reached the end of his rant, he suddenly became aware of the chilling glares being sent his way, from all the members of the Auror group. However, it was the leader's calm, neutral expression that perturbed him the most.

"On the contrary, Mr. Smith," Vivian replied coolly, "it makes quite a bit of sense. Even with the barrier frozen, there is nothing to prevent the malefactor from blasting hole in that wall, in order to escape. And I'm quite sure a Death Eater of his stature would have little difficult doing so." Actually, she wasn't so sure about the last, but he didn't need to know that...

"I - uh - I..." the Stationmaster shook his head, clearly not knowing what to say.

"She does have a point, Will," the Muggle Stationmaster told his Wizarding colleague. [AN: LOL, I just _couldn't_ resist that! ... And hey, I figure that _all_ Muggles _can't_ be like the Dursleys, I mean that defies the laws of nature! So we can have a few who don't think magic is _totally_ freaky!] He offered the Auror a slightly hesitant smile, "We'll hold the station until you say otherwise, General. Good luck."

Vivian nodded, "Thank you, Stationmaster Gardener." She offered a smile in return, before leading the group farther down the Station. [Ok... that doesn't sound right... but I can't think of any way to rewrite it! -_-*]

None of the Aurors spoke as they hurried toward the barrier between platforms seven and eight. 

~ * ~

"Malfoy wants to be an Auror?" Ron asked, skepticism evident in his tone.

Captain Vindictus nodded, "He does indeed. And he will undoubtedly be very successful," she shrugged, "In all actuality, he doesn't need the donations to bring him into the qualifying range. He qualifies already."

"He _does?_" Hermione asked, frowning slightly, "_Why?_"

"Because of all the extra training he's had." This time it was Major Lufkin who replied.

"Training?" McGonagall inquired, interested despite the topic.

"Yes," the raven-haired major nodded, "under his father's direction... As Janna said, Mr. Malfoy wants nothing but the best for his son and heir. Therefore, Draco has received nothing but the best of training. His application and the recommendations it will undoubtedly entail, will doubtlessly be quite impressive."

"Why?" Ron asked... well, actually, more of demanded... as he didn't like the fact the Malfoy was so obviously well viewed by the two high ranking Auror officials.

"There are a number of talents a witch or wizard needs to be considered Auror material..." Captain Vindictus began, watching the redhead thoughtfully with her pale green eyes. "To get into any of the other departments, you need top grades, at least five N.E.W.T.s, with nothing under 'Exceeds Expectations' in their O.W.L.s..."

The adults nodded at this account, and waited for her to continue, curious as to what this department expected. The students visibly suppressed the urge to wince, for that wasn't an easy thing to come up with...

"This department does, of course, expect those same standards to be met, or exceeded." The captain continued, while taking a different book similar in appearance to the case log, and leafing through its pages. "In addition, they must have at least three recommendations from reliable sources."

"What?" Ron blinked, clearly not following this statement.

"Written recommendations appraising that the applicant either 'exceeds expectations' or performs is gifted, or exceptionally gifted in a field. Each recommendation must come from someone who is, without a doubt, qualified to give it."

"What'd you mean by 'qualified'?" Ginny asked.

"An expert of some sort... for example, you could get a recommendation from, almost, every one of your teachers, if they should feel inclined to give it to you." Vindictus continued, nodding to the Hogwarts professors as she did so. "If you felt Potions was a field you excel in, you could ask Professor Snape for a recommendation, for he is a Potions Master. The same applies to Professor McGonagall, Professor Flitwick, and many of the other professors."

"Ah," Snape nodded, "that explains it then." He shook his head, meeting his former student's eyes. "I had been a bit surprised when you asked for that near the end of your seventh year."

The captain shrugged, "I had my goals... now," she glanced around the room, "weren't you here to go through Mr. Potter's case file?" 

~ * ~

"Spread out," Vivian ordered as she and the other thirteen Aurors stepped through the momentarily opened barrier.

Nodding, the others quickly began moving about the platform, sifting through the (irritated) crowd in search of their intended quarry. Vivian remained standing along the barrier, scanning the platform with her eyes, and instincts. 

Following standard protocol, all of the Aurors present had studied pictures of the man they were searching for. They had also memorized a description of him on their way to the platform. That description happened to be the one Harry, Ron and Hermione had given after meeting him in their third year, with the slight altercations that Harry had offered a year prior to that. Therefore they certainly knew who they were looking for, now they just had to _find_ him!

That was easier said then done. The Death Eater had been sighted at ten past eight that evening, and it was now five of nine, and the platform was as crowded as one would expect a regularly used platform to be. Except now the people there were restless, and agitated. They wanted to get out, they had places to be, but they couldn't... Needless to say, it didn't make the Auror's job any easier, but more importantly; it almost made it dangerous.

Vivian frowned slightly at that line of thought, not liking where it went at all. '_Well,_' she suppressed a sigh, '_at least were not dealing with any of the other departments... so we don't - oh no, Munch!_'

Eric Munch was an Auror who was completely loyal to Fudge, and who had only been accepted into her department under extreme badgering from the Minister. [I know that that's not what he is in the books, but... *shrugs*]

And, she looked at the squads that had come with her, yup, he was there, apparently trying to pacify some of the civilians, rather than search for Pettigrew.

As she drew within hearing range, she was forced to suppress a groan.

"We're looking for a Death Eater who has been impersonating Peter Pettigrew..."

She shook her head, scanning the crowd and listening as she neared them. Sure enough, word was quickly passing through the crowd that if they wanted to get out of here, they needed to find the 'Pettigrew Imposter'. "Mr. Munch," [LOL, I'd **_hate_** having that name!] she intoned as she came up along side him, pretending to not notice his startled jump. "I do not believe I ever accessed civilian involvement."

"Yes... well," the older Auror (he was in his early forty's) shook his head, "these poor people just want to be on their way. We should at least allow them to help, if only to get them out of here faster."

"As difficult as the theory of rank, and command may be for you to understand, Private." Vivian replied, "You do not have the authority to authorize such an act, regardless of how proper it may seem to you. Furthermore, civilian involvement isn't something we _ever_ utilize, if given a choice." She held up a hand to forestall his protests, "I know most of the other departments do, but we don't. Is that-" she stopped abruptly as a shout was heard over the crowds mutterings, causing her to turn towards the rear of the train. 

"There he is!" the elderly wizard urbanite shouted, "The imposter! He's right there!"

Both Auror squads, Munch included, immediately made their way toward the back of the train, struggling to fight the crowd that was also trying to rush over there. And then, one of the civilians got the bright idea to simply try and curse 'the imposter', thinking it would undoubtedly make them a hero. However, their curse missed, and hit someone else instead. Seeing her husband collapse - his muscle's spasming - the middle-aged-witch beside the middle-age-man immediately retaliated with a different hex.

Vivian's soft sigh could not be heard over the chaos that ensued. However, she didn't try to do anything, not even moving from her space on the platform, simply standing there as everyone else rushed to the other end, to enter the crowd that was currently throwing hexes and curses every which way. 

In fact, she didn't move for several minutes, stood perfectly still, only scanning the area with her deep green eyes. Then, as what was quickly becoming an all-out riot continued to accumulate, she suddenly swung her hand up, pointing her wand at the wall, and cast; "_Stupify!_" 

~ * ~

The imperious house that stood atop the hill overlooking the village known as Little Hangleton had been made quite a bit more presentable in the last year. No longer the damp and derelict manor that had stood there less than a year prior was now the attractive mansion that had stood there nearly half a century earlier, easily the largest and the grandest building for miles around. 

Nonetheless, none of the inhabitants of the nearby manor were willing to go anywhere near it... There was something _strange_ about it... something that made them frightfully uncomfortable... something _wrong_... something **_evil_**...

And, in this case, although they all were Muggles, their instincts were entirely too right. For this manor, long known as "the Riddle House" was the current headquarters of the Death Eater forcers... the Dark Lord Voldemort's Dark Fortress.

The Dark Lord himself was currently inside those walls, as he had been for many months now. His demonic red eyes were currently focussed on the hearth fire before him. 

Suddenly, those malevolent eyes began to glow, as their owner snarled in rage. 

A moment later, one of his followers, a low rank no name that had been given the honor of attending to their lord's will on command, was kneeling beside his chair, head slightly bowed. "You called, my Lord?" The young man asked, clearly trying to suppress his fear of his master's rage, both vocally and physically.

Hearing the soft inquiry, the Dark Lord turned his (awful) eyes to the boy, as if considering. 

The attendant remained perfectly still, only moving to bow further, as was expected, and staying in that position. He knew all too well that if he failed to follow the proper rules of etiquette, he would be punished. Of course, he also knew that if his lord was angry enough, it wouldn't matter if her performed everything flawlessly or not...

"_Yesss..._" Voldemort hissed, his anger still evident in the arctic reply. "Hold out your arm," he commanded.

The order was quickly obeyed, as the Death Eater, knowing what his master wanted, held out his left arm, pulling the sleeve up to bare the upper half as he did so. This displayed the vivid red tattoo that displayed his loyalties to the Dark Lord; the Dark Mark. Usually, it was dark black, but it was always the deep, burning crimson it currently was, in the presence of the Dark Lord himself. 

The Heir of Slytherin said nothing as he reached out and pressed his long white forefinger onto the brand, ignoring the young man's hiss of pain. 

~ * ~

"Ah, yes," Dumbledore nodded, "yes, of course. Please continue." 

Both witches nodded, turning back to the crates. Vindictus began scanning the log book while Major Lufkin started looking through the various crates. 

"You know," Lufkin murmured, "it's rather odd..."

"What is?" Hermione asked before anyone else could, hoping that the Auror had found something while hoping she'd found nothing at all.

"Well, there's hardly _anything_ on this case..." the Major shook her head. "Usually the General would have a case like this solved by now."

"I don't think _'odd'_ is really the right word," Captain Vindictus murmured, as she found the page that bore the last entry again.

"Oh?" Lufkin replied, not seeming the least bit surprised, "what would you call it?"

"Scary." Was the captain's immediate reply.

Her commander looked thoughtful, and, after a moment, nodded. "You're right, that does suit it..." shaking her head, she turned her attention back to the visitors. "Now, what exactly are you looking for?"

Almost every member of the group blinked.

"Excuse me?" Hermione asked.

Both Aurors stopped, and turned back to look at them.

"What do you want to see?" Lufkin murmured, "What evidence are you (unclear) on?"

"We want to see _all_ the evidence." Ron replied after a moment's silence.

By the time the redhead had finished speaking, the magical fighter's eyebrows were rather close to their hairlines as they stared at the group.

"Ah... I," after a moment, the captain shook her head, closing her eyes briefly, before opening them again, to gaze at the visitors, her pale green eyes incredulous. "I see..." 

~ * ~

"But, Father," this was one of the _extremely_ few times in his life that Draco Malfoy would ever consider saying that. "The holiday isn't even half-over! I haven't even gotten my letter yet!"

Nonetheless, this was a fight like every other one, which he knew he could not win. Even if it wasn't an unwritten and unspoken law in the Malfoy household, the cool glint in his father's silver eyes told him that. 

"Be that as it may," Lucius Malfoy replied coolly, seeming every inch the wizard he was. "It is your responsibility to-" he stopped short, stiffening slightly as hot fire ran from the Dark Mark on his upper left arm down that arm and up his shoulder. 

"Father...?" Draco inquired worriedly when the elder blonde did not continue. There had never really been any close bond between them. His father's loyalty to the Dark Lord had always been in the forefront of his mind, so they'd really never talked about... anything. At least, nothing that would make them feel comfortable... safe, or _right_, in the others presence...

"I am needed," the elder replied shortly, turning on his heel. "I expect you to have completed your Divination, Transfiguration and Potions homework by supper this evening."

After his father's figure had vanished from sight, the younger Malfoy sighed, "Bloody Hell, why _Transfiguration?_" 

~ * ~

"Is there something wrong?" Mrs. Weasley asked, obviously confused. 

Both Aurors glanced at each other, then back at the group before them, and then met each others eyes again, before sighing.

"Yes," Vindictus nodded, "I'm afraid there is..." she thought for a moment, "you see, it would be rather difficult, if not impossible, to go through _all_ of the evidence." Her raised hand forestalled any protest they might offer. "The case files are simply far too complex, and it would take several weeks-"

"-at least," Lufkin muttered under her breath.

"To translate everything and examine everything." The captain finished.

"But," Percy protested, "the files are always made out so that they can be easily understood by the jurors." 

"In all of the other departments, yes, they are," Vindictus nodded, "but in _this_ department all of the case files are specially encoded and warded, so as to prevent tampering."

"But then how do these cases _ever_ go to court?" Professor McGonagall asked, frowning.

"That's what the _Consto Council_ is for." Lufkin replied.

"Pardon?" McGonagall blinked.

Vindictus laughed, "Sorry, we're really not used to talking to people outside of the department about the department itself..." she shook her head, "The _Consto Council_ basically sorts through all the evidence that the field agents bring in, anything forensics picks, and all the theories we come up with. The detailed logs are really for them, so that they can follow the case from beginning to end. The Councilors pick out everything that's actually relevant to the case, and document it, then they give identical copies the prosecution and the defense."

"Interesting...When exactly did this start?" Professor Dumbledore inquired, "For I do not recall hearing of it."

"That's not surprising," Vindictus nodded, "General Potier formed the _Council_ four years ago, and our department's record skyrocketed."

Silence returned to the room for several moments, as its occupants wandered around inside their own minds. That silence was interrupted only by the ticking of the clock that was positioned over the door to Vivian's office. However, the pondering people didn't really notice that until it went; _*DONG!*DONG!*DONG!*_, calling out to the world (or at least the room), that it was ten o'clock at night. [LOL... I've always liked those clocks...]

"Goodness, when did it get so late?" Mrs. Weasley shook her head, turning to her younger children (and Hermione). "We'd best be getting home, dears. Time for bed."

"Of course, Molly," Dumbledore nodded, "but, just a moment, if you will."

Mrs. Weasley hesitated, halfway through starting to bustle the children toward the elevator, as they stood, mouths open, to start protesting. After glancing at the Headmaster momentarily, she nodded.

"Major, Captain," the Headmaster nodded to each of them, "could you perhaps, briefly scan the case files, and see if anything has changed recently?"

Both nodded, and Vindictus closed the book she was holding and tapped the symbol on the front cover with her wand. A moment later, she was holding two books, one of which she handed to her superior. And then both of them began quickly leafing through the book.

"Well," Lufkin broke the silence with a sigh, "the last complete entry was this afternoon, concluding that he wasn't at the Malfoy Manor, and that a squad was scheduled to search their estates over the course of the next week."

"How do they know Harry's not at the Malfoy's?" Ron demanded.

"Because '_they_' looked," the Major replied, "General Potier and General Willow attended with the Malfoy's at half past five. Afterwards, they searched the Manor and interrogated the house elves under Mr. Malfoy's order."

"What'd you mean; his 'order'?" Ron asked.

"House elves do not have to answer all wizards truthfully, they only have to do so under their master's command. Lucius Malfoy is the head of the Malfoy household, and therefore his word is law to its servants. He simply ordered them to answer all of the General's questions, and answer them truthfully." Vindictus replied with a shrug, still scanning the log as she did so. "It's a relatively common procedure with house elves who master's are suspected of a crime." She stopped turning the pages suddenly and frowned. "That's interesting."

"What is?" Lufkin inquired, leaning over to check the page her colleague was reading from.

The captain shook her head, "There's a second reference to the Macnair case, expecting a full analysis from forensics."

Lufkin frowned, "That _is_ odd..."

"Why?" Ginny asked.

"What is it?" Hermione pressed.

"Macnair was killed by the Avada Kedavra curse," the dark brunette replied, shaking her head once more. "So forensic shouldn't be able to do much, if anything, with him..."

"So why would she...?" Lufkin shook her head, frowning. 

"Well," Vindictus murmured, "we could always send down to forensics now, they should be done."

"How long have they been working on it?" Hermione asked.

"About a week," Vindictus replied, "and, usually I'd give them two, but they always give anything the General sends them top priority." 

~ * ~

Closing the lid of the carry-case she'd just levitated Peter Pettigrew - in his Animagus form - into, Vivian sighed as she turned back to watch the ever-escalating riot. Shaking her head, she waved her wand, murmuring; "_Modari Conflo_," to create a small flame, and pulled out her bag of _Ignigenae_ powder, taking a handful and tossing it onto the small flame that rested in her palm.

This time, the flames weren't strong enough to create an illusionary figure, but the voice that was emitted from the flames was the same.

"You summoned us... Mistress... What is your command...?"

"A word with Kate Derwent, please." 

"Very well... Mistress..." and the figure collapsed into multi-colored, but otherwise apparently normal flames, once again.

A moment later, the face of a plump, blonde witch appeared in the palm of her hand. "St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, how may I help you?"

"Good evening, Healer Derwent," Vivian offered a warm smile, which was quickly returned.

"Vivian! Hello! How are you?" the other witch replied brightly.

"Well enough, thank you, and yourself?"

"Oh, I'm fine. But I highly doubt that this is a social call, no?"

"I'm sorry to admit that you're right," Vivian sighed.

"What's happened?"

The General glanced up at the platform and shook her head again. "A riot, at Kings Cross, seven and three quarters. I think you should probably get a few people down here."

"Will do, Derwent out!"

"Thank you..." Vivian murmured, before un-cupping her hand and allowing the flames to dissolve. She glanced up just in time to see a wave of orange light coming right at her, and jumped to the side before raising her wand again. "_Pax-Pacis!_" 

A barely visibly wave of soothing, silvery-white light burst from the tip of her wand.

~ * ~

"Is something wrong, Professor?" Captain Vindictus inquired, when the Hogwarts Potion's Master suddenly winced, as if in pain, for no apparent reason.

"No," Snape shook his head, "not at all..." he replied, meeting the Headmaster's eyes.

After a moment, the Auror nodded, "Very well, the results should be up any minute now... Are you sure you're alright?" 

"_Quite,_" the Head of Slytherin house replied coolly, meeting his former student's gaze and holding it. 

"Oh dear," Professor Dumbledore suddenly broke in, interrupting their staring contest.

Professor McGonagall glanced at him, as did everyone else. "What is it, Albus?"

"I just happened to remember," the Headmaster replied, sighing wearily. "I'm afraid I left a few items back at school, which I will need for a meeting later on tonight..." he shook his head, "I'm sorry to have to leave now, but-"

"Don't be ridiculous, Headmaster," Snape cut in, "I will retrieve, them and meet you there."

"Very well, Severus," Dumbledore nodded, "thank you."

Snape nodded before turning on his heel and exiting the room.

~ * ~

Peter Pettigrew had never been an attractive man. Very short, with thin, colorless hair that grew along the sides of his head, leaving the top quite bald, a bit overweight, a pointed nose and watery eyes.

Vivian had often wondered, when going through her parent's photo albums and yearbooks, how a man such as this could ever have been one of the Marauders. He certainly didn't look the part. The other three Marauders were all reasonably tall, and fairly attractive, with smiles that were undoubtedly the source of many schoolgirls' crushes. 

Furthermore, he hadn't fit in them academically, or magically either. His grades were always just above failing, while his three friends ranked among the best in their year. 

And his personality, if the stories she's heard (and read) of her parent's years in school, truly couldn't be more different... While her father, Sirius Black, and Remus Lupin had all truly personified what it was to be a Gryffindor, Pettigrew had always come off (to _almost_ everyone) as a coward... She had no doubt that he was only placed in Gryffindor because his 'friends' were there, and he was far too weak for Slytherin, no where near smart enough for Ravenclaw, and... Well... His actions of fifteen years prior were more then enough proof of the fact that he wasn't even on the same scale as the Hufflepuff's, the most loyal and trustworthy of all the houses.

She was drawn out of her thoughts as the man before her showed the first sign of wakening; his limbs stiffened, and he held his breath quietly. 

Neither she, nor the other two with her, Ria and John Croaker, here to represent the Unspeakables, moved from their seated positions across the cool metal table in the center of the interrogation chamber. The chamber itself was more than a bit intimidating; with hard, cold metal chairs around an equally hard and cold metal table. All in the center of room that didn't seem to have any door, but instead a never broken circular wall, with a mirror that stretched from the hard metal floor to the domed, and mirrored ceiling.

It was a design that Vivian had recalled inventing when she was training under Alastor Moody, after taking notes on all of his beliefs on interrogation techniques, and while the old Auror had never scene one of the rooms, she had no doubt he would approve. If he didn't at first sight, he certainly would upon seeing Pettigrew's reaction to it.

His eyes widened in fear as he saw his reflection in the ceiling above him, and that fear became outright panic when he tried to move and found he couldn't. His wrists were held down to the chair by unyielding metal bars.

No one said anything until he began hyperventilating. 

"Calm down, Pettigrew," Vivian admonished coolly, "you will do yourself no good in that state."

His head immediately snapped down, and he stared at her with his watery, piteous gray eyes. "Wh-who are you?"

"I am General Vivian Potier, of the first sector. This is General Riatanya Willow, also of the first Enforcement, and Colonel John Croaker, of the Unspeakables." She replied smoothly, in a tone that suggested this was an everyday conversation. "And you are Peter Pettigrew, are you not?"

"Yes," Pettigrew replied immediately, then his eyes widened in shock as he realized what he'd just admitted to three Wizarding law enforcement officials. But when he made to deny it, he found he could not.

"You have already been injected with an appropriate dose of Veritaserum, Mr. Pettigrew." The Auror General informed, "And I'm sure you know why you're here, do you not?"

After nearly ten seconds of trying to repress the serum induced response, in which his face reddened, his eyes rolled and his breath caught repeatedly, he nodded. "Yes..."

Vivian offered him a cold smile, "Good... then I'm sure we will get along nicely..." 

~ * ~

Everyone in the room looked up as the elevator doors slid open again barely two minutes after the Potions Master's departure. But it wasn't Professor Snape who came through. 

A tall and fairly muscular young man with warm brown eyes and golden blonde hair framing his handsome features stepped out instead. 

"Eric," Captain Vindictus greeted him with a small frown, "What are you doing here?"

The young man met her eyes, and sighed. "I was called, seems there was a bit of difficulty at that station..."

"Oh?" Lufkin inquired, "Did they catch him?"

The blonde nodded, "Yes," he sighed, "but the clean up is going to take awhile." He replied, his eyes falling upon the visiting group as he finished.

"Why? What happened?" Hermione asked, blushing slightly. The man was _very_ handsome, and she wasn't anywhere _near_ enough of a bookworm to not notice. 

"I don't believe we've met," the Auror replied, flashing the group a warm smile.

"Oh, excuse us," Vindictus laughed, then nodded to the group, "these are the group Vivian's been working with."

"On the Potter case?" he inquired, and received a nod in return.

"Yes, I believe you already know the Professors?"

'Eric' nodded.

"Then may I introduce Remus Lupin, Arthur Weasley and his wife Molly, and their children; Charlie, Bill, Percy, Fred, George, Ron and Ginny, and Hermione Granger."

"A pleasure," he replied, bowing slightly.

Vindictus shook her head, and turned her attention back to the group. "You may remember him," she told the Professors, who were also watching in interest, "from the class of '92?"

"Bonham?" McGonagall smiled after a moment's thought. "Eric Bonham?"

The blonde nodded, returning the smile, "That's me, Professor."

"So you did make it into the Aurors," McGonagall smiled, "I thought you might." She noticed most of the others watching her and shook her head, "Eric _was_ a Gryffindor Prefect three years ago, you know."

"I thought you looked familiar!" Percy burst out. 

"Long time no see," Bonham nodded, then returned his attention to his former house head, "Yeah, I'm a captain now." He shook his head, "So I should probably collect what I came here for and get on with my job!" he said as he made his way around the group and through one of the office doors. "Good luck on the case!" he called over his shoulder.

"Oh! Eric!" Vindictus called a moment afterward, and waited for him to stick his head out the door with a raised eyebrow before continuing. "Have you heard anything on the Macnair case? You've been assisting General Willow haven't you?"

He nodded, "Yeah, I have. Why?"

"We've been waiting for a final from forensics," she replied, "why was and _A.K._ corpse sent there, anyway? They can't really read anything from it."

The other Captain didn't answer right away, and came out of his office carrying a briefcase that he'd apparently summoned. "They can read a few things."

"Well what are they looking for?" Lufkin asked as he stepped onto the elevator again.

"That Dark Mark," he replied as the doors slid shut, "Both Potier and Willow think he was a Death Eater!"

End of Chapter 9.

AN: Well, that's it for Chapter 9! What'd you think? REVIEW! REVIEW!!!

Translations:

Consanguina - related by blood (Latin)

Consto - to stand together, be composed/to depend upon/correspond/to be established 

Modari - to keep within bounds/restrained/controlled

Conflo - blow into flame

Pax-Pacis - peace/calm/quiet

In Response to Reviews from Chapter 8:

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Xirleb70 - LOL, that's good to hear. Thank you, I'm glad you liked it. ^_^

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Jaded*Secrets - LOL... ^_^**

Thank you, thank you, thank you very much and Thank you very very much! 

Are you more rested now?

Thanks for reviewing! ^_^

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Rachel A. Prongs - Thank you. 

LOL... hmm... *crosses fingers behind back* I don't know... why? 

Not telling! :-P

And you're right, Harry's a great character. 

Thanks!

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Littletoaster2345 - Thank you. Sorry for the wait. 

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Muggle - Thank you very much. I'm sorry about the wait. 

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Pheonixrising - Thank you. ^_^

LOL, yes, she's good isn't she? Of course, she was kind of expecting it sooner or later, so she was a bit more prepared then they would have expected her to be... and they were more than a little awed by her, umm, house... (I like her house! I want to live there!... Why do I always make up homes for my characters that I want to live in? *sigh* -_-*...) 

Well, Pettigrew's been captured! I will say 2 things on that; Sirius isn't free _just_ yet, and I actually already have a solution for that... but you'll have to wait to see it. :-D

Sorry about the wait. And thank you. *Smiles evilly* 

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Green Eyed Knight - Thanks. ^_^

LOL, I wouldn't no, but my mom's always liked it, so I thought it'd be a good one. 

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Everpresent - LOL... I know, sorry. ^_^*

Oh... not complaining... OK! That good! ^_^

I'm glad you liked it. 

LOL, we can't make deep, philosophical comments all the time. Thanks for reviewing! 

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Mariko-chan - Thank you, for both the review and your help. ^_^ 

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Te - Thanks... 

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Liberty Belleview - LOL, don't worry about it. I can't expect reviews all the time... it'd be nice... but I'd be far too disappointed too often and would probably become depressed and therefore not be able to write anything... Umm... ok, I'll stop...

LOL, as for the summer/school thing... I think maybe it's because;

1. School year - we're on a schedule, so we plan things accordingly and therefore it doesn't really _seem_ busy...

2. Summer - the vacation is only so long and we want to do as much as possible during that 'free' time... And that's when relatives come visit and whatnot...

Thank you. I'm sorry for the wait. 

REVIEW!

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Bye! ^_^

~ **Jess S**


	11. Chapter 10: Running Out of Time

Disclaimer: I own the plot, I apologize if it's been done before. Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.  
  
AN: Hi! Real AN at the end! Enjoy!

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Consanguina 

by Jess S  
  
Chapter 10: Running Out of Time

"Harry! Harry!"

By all accounts, Petunia Evans should not have been awake at this late hour. It was well past eleven thirty, with the moon high in the sky. The deep shadows that surrounded her ominously, as she stood in her nephew's room, trying frantically to wake him from whatever nightmare it was that made him scream so.

She'd never heard a scream such as this... one that seemed to express more pain than one should by mortally capable of bearing. 

But no matter how hard she shook him, or how loud she called him, he simply _wouldn't_ awaken.

And then, suddenly, his vivid green eyes snapped open, and him screams halted, as he fought to breath, sweat poring from every pore on his body. 

"H-Harry?"

Slowly, as if he were almost a century older than he actually was, the teenager's head turned toward the side of the bed, and his eyes struggled to focus on his aunt. "A-aunt P-Petunia...?" he asked, still gasping in air, "Wh-what are you d-doing h-here?"

"I-I came to check on you, Harry..." his aunt replied after a moment's silence. "I thought you were d-dying..."

It took Harry's besieged brain several moments to truly register what she'd said, and when it did, his eyes saddened, and his face took on a mask of a different type of pain than what it had worn moment's before. "I'm s-sorry, Aunt Petunia," he took another gulp of air, "you shouldn't have s-seen t-that..." he finished weekly..."

"W-What was that? What h-happened?" she asked.

Harry remained silent for several moments before replying, still struggling with his breathing while he did so. "I had a... vision, of sort... of the present, not the future..."

"Why?" 

"Because... of my scar..."

"Y-your _scar?_" Aunt Petunia repeated, glancing up at his forehead and reaching up, as if to touch it, but then managing to control herself as he began to cringe away.

"It's really a symbol of sorts... a dark mark..." he told her, "it connects me to Voldemort... I can see what's happening whenever he's emotionally active...or when he's hurting someone..."

"Lord..." Aunt Petunia frowned, "I've heard that name before... where have I..." Suddenly, her eyes widened, "B-but... he was killed! He died the night he killed Lily and James! When he tried to kill you!"

Harry sighed, finally managing to gain some semblance of control on his breathing. Even though it hurt to talk; as he'd just been screaming his throat raw for several minutes, he felt he owed his aunt an explanation... "He's back..."

"Back?" she repeated, her voice fearful as she spoke at a volume that barely qualified as a whisper. Her large, pale eyes wide and no less frightened than they'd been only moments before.

"Yes," he murmured, "He came back a month ago... I saw it..."

"You s-saw..." It was then that Aunt Petunia took notice of his current health, and snapped her mouth shut, visibly trying to control herself. After several moments of this, she released a soft sigh. "Is there anything that I can do to help, Harry?"

Harry blinked, but after a moment nodded; _very_ slowly. "Vivian gave me a potion to help with the pain... it's in the drawer." He told her.

His aunt immediately moved around to the other side of the large bed, and opened the drawer of the table. After rummaging around for a moment, she pulled out a small, green crystal bottle. "How much do you take?"

"Five drops dissolved in warm water," the young wizard replied quietly.

She glanced around for a moment, before hurrying into his bathroom. He heard the tap running for a few seconds before she returned with a small glass of water. Setting the glass down on the table, she removed the crystal that corked the bottle, and carefully poured five drops of the bright (almost _glowing_) green liquid into the water. Then she corked the bottle and returned it to the drawer before picking the glass up and sitting down beside him carefully. 

Harry was surprised, but grateful, when she held the glass to his mouth, one gentle hand at his chin holding his head up, and allowing him to drink.

He was even more grateful when the potion started to take affect, and the pain that had been tormenting him relentlessly began to ebb. 

~ * ~

While, vampires and other nocturnal creatures would undoubtedly disagree, it was realistically, rather late for a meeting of any sort... However, another meeting of the Order of the Phoenix was commencing, though not all too well.

"The Auror that was guarding him was a Death Eater?" Madame Vance murmured, her eyes just a barely wider than usual. 

"So it would seem..." Dumbledore nodded, "However, we do have one good piece of news."

The order members looked at him curiously, wondering what could possibly hope to brighten the dreariness news as horrible as this was meant to bring. 

"Severus has just returned from an Inner Circle meeting," Dumbledore nodded to the obviously exhausted Potions Master, "And, as it happens, not only has Voldemort had no success in locating Mr. Potter, but he also lost one of his own in attempting to do so...." The Headmaster smiled, "Peter Pettigrew was captured by Aurors earlier this evening, which means that Sirius should soon be a free man." He nodded to the escaped convict. 

~ * ~

"Why bloody _Transfiguration?_" Draco Malfoy wondered allowed for nearly the hundredth time, as he struggled over his summer homework. 

The class taught by the Gryffindor Head was undoubtedly his worst subject, not because of the teacher; no, Muggle-lover or not, McGonagall knew her stuff and was almost never biased. The reason he performed so poorly in her class was simply because he didn't like it... 

He didn't like changing things anymore than he liked being changed himself. He shivered as he remembered what Crouch had done to him when he was impersonating Mad-Eye. 

After that incident, his Transfiguration grade had dropped from adequate to barely passing...

Which was undoubtedly why his father had ordered that he finish the homework. He'd put it off until last, and now he was paying for it with several hours of missed sleep. 

Of course, his father had yet to return... and Draco couldn't help but wonder what had happened now. The Dark Lord hardly ever called people so suddenly... At least not suddenly enough to take his father _completely_ by surprise...

Draco wasn't sure what to make of it...

Just like he wasn't anymore sure of what to make of his father... Lucius Malfoy had always been cool and to all appearances indifferent to his family in public, but he used to drop the mask a little in private. He used to lecture Draco on his shortcomings, and he'd even struck on occasion. 

Lucius had only struck his son four times in Draco's lifetime, when Draco had _really_ messed up. And those strikes had served their purpose. 

Draco had never made any of those mistakes since then. 

Until today, that is...

Draco truly was surprised by this, he'd done something unforgivable this afternoon; he'd forgotten his place and argued with his father while under direct orders. That definitely should have earned him a strike or at least a small dose of dark magic... 

And, even though the calling had undoubtedly distracted his father, Draco couldn't imagine what could distract Lucius Malfoy enough to forget to put his son in place...

At the same time, he wasn't sure he cared. After all, the calling was enough, wasn't it? Draco had been born to follow in his father's footsteps, and to follow the Dark Lord's command. And so he would... Whether destiny existed or not, Draco Malfoy's life had been planned out well before he was born, and he had no reason to dispute that plan...

~ * ~

It was only a few short hours before dawn that Vivian stepped into the entrance hall of her home and made her way to her study. As always, a cup of decaffeinated tea was waiting on her desk, charmed to keep warm. She quickly added her milk and sugar, before grasping the handle of the cup a bit more firmly than was proper and bringing it up to her mouth. 

However, before she could take a sip of the soothing beverage, she noticed the owl that was resting on one of the perches by her open window, a letter tied to its talons. Setting the teacup down, she made her way over to the familiar Malay fish owl.

Once again, the silver-crest that held the letter shut vanished when she pressed lightly on it, allowing her to open the letter. 

She did not appear the least bit alarmed as she quickly read through the information, which was written in that same elegant script. However, only a few moments after setting it down, her vivid green eyes widened and she was on her feet and hurrying out of her study at a very fast walk.

It took her a little under two minutes to reach her brother's room, using the Manor's many secret/enchanted passageways. And she didn't make a sound as she opened one of the set of double doors and slipped inside.

She stopped short a few steps into the room, and slowly a smile began to make its way across her face as she took in the scene before her.

On the other side of the bed, her aunt slept in the leather-backed chair to Harry's desk, her right hand tightly clasped in one of the young wizard's. Harry himself was also sleeping peacefully, although he did look a little worse for wear.

Noting the empty glass on the bedside table and Harry's obliviousness, Vivian shook her head. Well, that was what she'd given him the potion for...

She quietly made her way around the bed to wear her aunt was. Once there, she transfigured the chair into a kline. Then the Auror waved her wand again to create a blanket, and covered her aunt with it.

Vivian walked around the bed again, and after checking to make sure her little brother was well covered, she placed a gentle kiss on his forehead, and departed. 

~ * ~

The jail cell Peter Pettigrew was currently contained in wasn't really uncomfortable. It was a decent size, with a single bed, a table with a chair, a few books for entertainment. Nonetheless, it was more than a little disconcerting. 

Just like in the interrogation room, there didn't seem to be any way out of the room, the white walls that surrounded him was unmarked and unbroken, as they stretched from the white floor to the white ceiling. The bed, chair and table were designed the same way the furniture of the other room had been; cold, unforgiving metal. The bed had one mattress, a white sheet, a white blanket and one white-cased pillow. 

The only light in the room came from the center of the ceiling. It was obviously magicked to match the times of the day, for now, well after midnight; it emitted only a very small amount of light.

But Pettigrew had already taken all of this in a few hours before, when he'd been brought in here, immediately after the interrogation. 

The thought of _that_ room made him shiver. For it was in there that his life had truly been taken from him. And taken by someone who looked far too much like Lily Potter for his tastes...

__

She was the one that he had feared the most. Only partially because of the fact that she was obviously in charge, and only partially because her presence seemed dangerous... 

He couldn't figure it out though! Why was she so familiar?! Was it some cruel twist of fate that the person destined to destroy the life he'd fought so long to keep would look like the wife of the man he'd called a friend for well over half his life, before betraying?

Wormtail wished more than any thing at that moment that he could change into his rat form; as life always seemed so much simpler in the form of a rat. In that form, his fear and guilt didn't seem to reach him. But he had already tried transforming, and found that him was denied that sanctuary...

~ * ~

"Good morning, Harry," Vivian smiled as her younger brother entered the breakfast parlor just before seven that morning. She nodded at the woman who came in a few steps behind him; their aunt. "Aunt Petunia..."

Both nodded, and returned the greeting. "Good morning..."

"I trust you both slept well?" Vivian murmured after a moment's silence, picking her half-empty teacup up to take another sip of the awakening elixir. 

Harry spoke up a little too quickly, "Well enough, thank you..." the look he gave his aunt forced her to nod in agreement. He then turned his attention back to his sister. "How did it go last night?"

"Oh, well enough," Vivian replied before bringing a piece of melon up to her mouth, chewing and swallowing. "Although we were interrupted right in the middle of the confrontation."

"Really?" Harry blinked, "By what?"

Instead of replying, Vivian picked up the newspaper she'd set aside when they'd entered, and handed it to him.

Curious, Harry unfolded it and looked it over. 

There were three pictures all across the top of the page, and all of them depicted two people. The one in the center was the one he'd seen of his parent's wedding, where Sirius had looked so happy and healthy, he could see Peter Pettigrew not far from him... he didn't look _nearly_ as happy. To the left of that picture was the one of when Sirius when he'd escaped from Azkaban, and the one on the right was a pale, sickly and obviously frightened Peter Pettigrew. 

It was the front page of the _Daily Prophet_, with the cover story he never thought he'd be granted the wish to see, taking up the entire page.

****

Sirius Black - _Framed?_

Peter Pettigrew - _Alive_ & Guilty?!

~ * ~

__

At ten past eight o'clock, members of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement (Aurors) were faced with a shock. For it was then that they were summoned, to capture Peter Pettigrew. For our younger readers, who may not know why this is so shocking, it's really very simple...

Peter Pettigrew was one of James Potter's best friends when they attended school together. Not long after the Potter's died, Pettigrew chose to avenge their deaths on the one who betrayed them: Sirius Black. It was made all to clear when he faced Black however, that he wasn't anywhere near capable of completing that mission. As he was blown to smithereens, along with thirteen other unfortunate Muggles...

This story has been accepted as fact for the last fifteen years... and it wasn't until last night that anyone assumed it might be inaccurate. For, while many of the Aurors had thought they were catching "an imposter", as stated by Private Eric Munch, they found, upon questioning that man under Veritaserum that he was no imposter at all!

Through the course of a two-hour interrogation, we have been told that Pettigrew not only admitted his identity and the fact that he has been alive the past fifteen years, but many other horrifying secrets as well.

1. It was he, not Black, who had betrayed the Potter's to the Dark Lord...

2. He has the Dark Mark on his arm to prove it...

3. He escaped by framing his former best friend...

4. And... He helped his Master return only a few short months before now...

__

"It would seem," Auror General Vivian Potier told this Auror in a brief interview, "That both the Wizarding Ministry and world owe a number of apologies." And whom do we owe these apologies to? 

Sirius Black, for his undeserved imprisonment...

Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Ronald Weasley - for ignoring them and not believing them simply because we didn't want to when they told us the truth.

And again, to Harry Potter. Who suffered through watching the Dark Lord's return, only to then be shunned and hated when he warned us of it...

This report would like to be the first to offer these apologies.

~ Rita Skeeter, Daily Prophet

"You know," Remus Lupin murmured as he finished reading the article allowed to everyone at the dining room table at Grimmauld Place, "I never thought I'd see the day when Rita Skeeter wrote a newsworthy article..."

Several people laughed at that, but the man who would've usually laughed the loudest was staring off into space.

"Sirius?" Remus asked, concern as evident on his face as it was in his voice.

"I'm _free..._" the other wizard murmured into the silence, trembling slightly.

~ * ~

"Harry?"

The Boy-Who-Lived looked up from his seat in the library, his quill still poised over a long piece of parchment. "Yes, Vivian?"

His sister smiled as she made her way over to them, her moves as graceful as they were silent. "What are you working on?" she inquired as she took the seat across from him.

"Potions..." he sighed.

"Still?" Vivian laughed, "Really, it isn't _that_ bad, Harry."

"I know... I've just never been overly fond of the subject... habit, I guess..." he sighed, before offering a slight smile, "I'm almost done though! Just two inches left!"

"That's good," the Auror smiled. "But don't forget to proof read it when you're done."

"Umm... Would you mind...?"

"I'll take a look at it as well, if you like."

"Thanks," Harry breathed, relieved.

"Would you mind putting it on hold for awhile?"

Harry blinked, "No... Why? More training?"

"Yes, I was thinking of starting your lessons in Occlumency."

"To stop my visions?"

"Well... not stop them, just control them." Seeing his incredulous look, she sighed, "I don't know if we _can_ stop them, Harry... I've been trying; potions, charms, and even some forms of ancient magic. Nothing's worked."

"Then what makes you think Occlumacy will?"

"_Occlumency_," the Auror corrected gently, "gives you a better understanding of - and therefore helps you control and protect - your mind." She shook her head, "It won't be easy. Occlumency is one of the most difficult forms of magic in existence. It ties so deeply into us... It's the closest thing modern wizards have to the ancient magicks..."

"Why?" Harry asked curiously, "Why is it so..."

"Difficult? Powerful?" Vivian offered with a soft smile, before shaking her head wearily. "The mind is incredibly complex and possesses many layers of information, of life..." she shook her head, "It is our that we use to do everything, from breathing, eating and walking, to reading, casting spells and flying brooms.... Without the brain, life would be nothing like we know it, even though we technically wouldn't _know_ it."

"But..." Harry frowned, "What about the _Imperius_ curse? If the brain is so powerful, shouldn't that not be possible?"

Vivian raised an eyebrow, "The _Imperius_ curse controls peoples minds by forcing the multi-layered contraption into one-layer channel, too compact to think for itself, it therefore serves as a channel for the caster." She smiled, "And no two minds, nor people are quite alike. Some are stronger than others, everyone has their strengths and weaknesses. Most people are easily controlled by the _Imperius_ curse... others are not. Most of the people who are capable of resisting it need _weeks_ to do it. Some need only days, others hours, a small few minutes, and an even smaller few - when trained - can become invulnerable to the curse."

"Like me..." Harry murmured, "I can resist it!"

The Auror nodded, "I know..." She raised an eyebrow, "Shall we?"

A few short minutes, and several magical passageways later, found the siblings in the 'training room'. 

"What'd we do?" Harry asked, looking around to see if anything had really been changed for these lessons... As far as he could tell, the only noticeable difference were the pads; which had increased in thickness. Apparently Vivian expected a lot of falling during this training...

"You may use any methods available to disarm me, or defend yourself in any other way you can think of." She told him. "While I attempt to break into your mind."

After a moment's thought, Harry nodded, falling back into one of the defensive stances she'd taught him over the last few weeks.

"Very well," Vivian nodded, "Brace yourself... _Legilimens!_"

At first, Harry didn't know what had happened, one moment he was staring into his sisters identical emerald gaze, and the next his vision blurred, and he felt himself falling into those vivid green pools. Then images began flickering across his sight, almost like he was seeing them... but not. 

__

He was five, watching Dudley riding a new red bicycle, and his heart was bursting with jealousy...

He was nine, and Ripper the bulldog was chasing him up a tree and the Dursleys were laughing below on the lawn...

He was sitting under the Sorting Hat, and it was telling him he would do well in Slytherin...

Hermione was lying in the hospital wing, her face covered with thick black hair...

A hundred Dementors were closing in on him beside the dark lake...

Then suddenly, everything blurred again, and he blinked to find himself falling forward down onto the mat. He just barely managed to catch himself and roll out of the fall and to his feet, as his sister had taught him, and he turned back to face her.

Vivian's face was utterly expressionless, but her eyes were sad. "Would you like a bike, Harry?"

Harry blinked, before remembering that that was one of the memories she'd seen. "No, thank you. I'd rather stick to broomsticks, if it's all the same..."

After a moment, his sister nodded, and released a deep breath before meeting his eyes again. Now her intense gaze was as unreadable as her lovely features. "You must remain focused, Harry. Focus, the enforcement of your will, is the only thing that can protect you from mental attack.... Do you remember the meditation techniques I taught you?"

"Yes," Harry frowned.

"Have you been practicing?" 

He sighed, "Not really..."

"If you want to help yourself improve in this on your own, meditating will help." His sister told him. "Now, focus... And clear your mind, Harry," she instructed. "Let go of all emotion..."

Harry nodded, and with a sigh, closed his eyes and concentrated on his breathing. Inhaling to a count of seven, then holding that breath and exhaling to the same count. Long hours of meditation under his sister's instruction were undoubtedly the only reason he was capable of clearing his mind. With excruciating slowness, the jealousy, fear, confusion, anger and depression that had been drawn up by the memories Vivian had called forth, slowly depleted.

Somehow, the Auror knew when his mind was clear, for she called him back immediately. "Good... Let's try again now... On the count of three..."

Harry opened his eyes just as Vivian raised her wand.

"One - two - three - _Legilimens!_"

This time, the foggy vision came on much more quickly, and the flickering memories were no slower...

__

A great black dragon was rearing in front of him...

His Mother and Father were waving at him out of an enchanted mirror...

Cedric Diggory was lying on the ground with blank eyes staring at him...

And then he was on his knees again, his face buried in his hands, his head aching as though someone had been trying to pull his brain from his skull. A short moment - which seemed line an eternity - later, he felt a gentle touch in his shoulder, and looked up to meet his sister's concerned gaze.

He'd never really noticed before, but the eyes his mother had given him were truly spectacular. Capable of majestically expressing more shades and emotions than one would have thought possible.

Vivian's eyes were currently very dark... sad...

After a few seconds of staring into his eyes, she leaned back slightly, and opened her arms. Without a moment's hesitation, he threw himself into her gentle, loving embrace. 

~ * ~

"This is **_great!_**" Ron smiled at his best friend's godfather. "You'll be free soon! Fudge'll _have_ to give in to this!"

Sirius Black only smiled softly, still not fully believing that this day wasn't a dream... Of course, that was only one of the problems on his mind. He had three of them. The other was, of course; Harry, or more specifically, his godson's disappearance. The other... well, he wasn't quite sure what that one was... He couldn't seem to remember something. He hated it when that happened, especially when he _knew_ that this was important. He didn't know how he knew... he just _knew_...

"We should send a letter of apology to Vivian," Remus's suggested broke into his thoughts.

'_Yes,_' Sirius thought with a nod, '_we should... we definitely should... Definitely? Why **definitely?** We had every right to be suspicious! Sure we should apologize... but it's not like we've ever done anything else to hurt her... So why do I feel like we have?_'

"Actually," Dumbledore replied, his eye's twinkling. "I already sent one a little over an hour ago, inviting her to have supper with us at Hogwarts. I trust all of you will attend?"

~ * ~

It was shortly after she'd left her brother to rest and recuperate (under the protection of _Afui Alucinari Dormio_, a type of dreamless sleeping potion), that one of the house elves appeared in front of her, offering a letter that had just arrived by owl.

Noting the Hogwarts seal on the front, she raised a curious eyebrow before opening it.

__

Dear Vivian,

I feel I must apologize for the actions of my colleagues and myself yesterday evening. We were too quick to judge you, especially after all the help you have been these past few weeks.

I truly hope you can find it in your hear to forgive us, and accept my most humble apologies. I would also like to invite you to join us for supper this evening. It will be served in the school's Great Hall at seven o'clock. I hope to see you there.

We may or may not have much to discuss there. But, in any event, enjoy the day.

Most sincerely,

****

Albus Dumbledore

~ Hogwarts Headmaster

Vivian shook her head, sighing softly. '_How much longer can I keep this up?_' she wondered, her brow creased in worry...

~ * ~

To say that the Dark Lord was 'seriously displeased' would be an incredible understatement. 

Eyes glowing vividly in the mute silence, he sat upon his dark throne, mouth pressed thin with suppressed rage. His meeting with his Inner Circle was now far from his mind. For the loss of Wormtail had been one thing, and mostly of no importance. But the fact that he'd told the Aurors as much as he had, under Veritaserum or not, was unforgivable.

Lord Voldemort hadn't wanted to reveal himself so soon, but it seemed he didn't have a choice. War, and a new Dark Age, was to begin again, much sooner than expected...

The article before him left no doubt of that...

Now if only he could remember what had been aggravating him before all of this... He knew he'd forgotten _something_, but he couldn't remember _what!_ However, all it took was the picture on the second page of the paper. There stood 'Vivian Potier' wand raised, obviously taken just as she stupefied the rat. 

And that was all it took, for the memories long denied him and the Wizarding world, returned.

__

End of Chapter 10.

Translations:

Consanguina - related by blood (Latin)

Afui - to take no part in 

Alucinari - dream

Dormio - to sleep

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Response to Reviews for Chapter 9:

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Xirleb70 - LOL, thank you. ^_^

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Liedral - LOL... Thank you very much...

*Sigh*... umm... It's not a question of power (for the most part)... 

1. Voldemort is the not the _only_ one who can remember, he just has to before anyone else _can_. The spell the OotP cast was directed at primarily him (and his followers), and just happened to hit the rest of the world as well. Therefore, he has to be the one to break the spell. 

2. The Order _really_ drained themselves on that spell (I think ancient magic would be like that) and therefore they had no protection against the backlash, whereas Voldmort (theoretically) wasn't casting any big, tremendously draining spells at that time, so he still had a lot of his magic to shield him, so on some level, he would stand a better chance of remembering.

3. The rest of the Wizarding world (outside of DE's & OotP) didn't really know what the spell made them forget, so they don't know they've forgotten something...yet. 

Did that answer your question?  
  
How was this chapter? 

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Jaded*Secrets - LOL, thanks... ^_^

Well... it's polite to thank someone for paying you a compliment... & I really do appreciate them! I don't know if it makes me write faster for sure... but it certainly encourages me to try. I know that I have a much easier time writing when I receive a lot of reviews...  
  
LOL... My stories help you sleep? They wake me up! LOL. Well, I'm glad they're good for something. Thanks for reading/reviewing (complimenting)!  
  
(Assuming your reading at a late hour again:) Good night! ^_^

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Pheonixrising - Thank you ^_^ 

*Sigh* Wouldn't we all? 

That's good to hear...

LOL, yeah, I had fun writing that scene. Although I still think I'd hate having the last name "Munch"... maybe it was just the sentence... but "Miss Munch" and "Mrs. Munch" don't sound any better than "Mr. Munch", to me... Yeah, I suppose that was kind of what he was... Don't worry, we'll see a little more of him later... (Vivian's not happy with him...poor guy...)

This wait wasn't that bad, was it? Although, I can't promise the next one will come quite as quickly... this chapter really was just _begging_ to be written!

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Rachel A. Prongs - LOL, thank you... 

Better? *blink* *blink* I'm not trying to make him better... 

Hmm... I'm not sure that's really true... I mean, Potion's is the only thing he's really bad at (and we all know the reason for _that!_) I've always thought that Hermione's... interest *cough* obsession *cough* with schoolwork may simply overshadow the fact that Harry himself isn't all that bad... Of course, I suppose it could be the Dursleys fault. LOL, hey there's nothing wrong with trying to see yourself in our fabulous hero! 

  
Hey, I just said that! -_-*... 

Yup, yup! Example... although I think Harry would be better following instructions from Vivian that run along the lines of; "Do as I say, not as I do..." ..but I'll explain that a bit more later... ^_^*   
  
Thank you, I'm glad you like it.

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Everpresent - ^_^ That's good to hear... and I figure she's pretty well balanced at the moment, so we can get on with the story... LOL, ^_^*, yes, some of my friend's have mentioned that... 

That's true... Harry's never really had a role model, or extreme private instruction... until now... ^_~

Yup, pretty much... They still have to get around Fudge... but that's for later... :-D

Hmm... yes she probably should, shouldn't she? In reality, she should hand it over to a different department, but then there's a higher change of him escaping or being assassinated... And, I'll just say right out front, that yes, Vivian _hates_ Peter. Voldemort really ruined her chance at a happy childhood, but it's almost certain that he couldn't have done it without the rat's help. And the rat may've not killed them himself, but there are some people who consider betrayal a greater sin than murder. And Vivian's killed (quite a few times) before, so she has no qualms about death... Ok, I'm shutting up now...

Umm... wh-I'm not sure.... I've got the Malfoys mixed into the plot pretty well, but we'll just have to wait and see... Personally, I don't think we've seen a cannon Draco that can be described as "evil"... I can think of a bunch of other descriptions: spoiled brat, arrogant jerk, weak-minded and overly dependent idiot...etc....

Thanks for reviewing! ^_^

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ROG1039 - Thank you. I'm glad you like it...

Yes, I think it's coming along.... 

AN: Well, that's it for Chapter 10! What'd you think? I can't guarantee that the next chapter will be out as soon as this one... Like I told Pheonix', this chapter was really _begging_ to be written... Well, i hope you guys liked it! Bye for now! ^_^

Bye! ^_^

~ **Jess S**


	12. Chapter 11: The Residuum

Disclaimer: I own the plot, I apologize if it's been done before. Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.  
  
AN: Hi! Real AN at the end! Enjoy!

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Consanguina by Jess S  
  
Chapter 11: The Residuum...

"What's it like?" Ron asked, as they began to eat the feast that the house elves had prepared and sent to the head table, which was the only table in the Great Hall during the holidays. "Being an Auror?"

Vivian laughed, "Like anything else, I should think. Stressful, but rewarding."

"How did you do it?" Hermione asked.

"Pardon?" Vivian blinked.

"You graduated so early, and you're currently the youngest of all the Ministry officials." The younger witch replied, "How did you do it? It's supposed to be _very_ difficult: to become an Auror. But they accepted you when you were fifteen, right? Why?"

"Because I was ready..." the Auror answered the last question first. "And, in the end, age is actually irrelevant."

Everyone but the Headmaster, whose eyes were twinkling (again), blinked at that.

"What do you mean?" Mrs. Weasley asked, frowning.

Vivian sighed, and shook her head. "Honestly... You are an adult when you are; able to make your own decisions, understand them, and when you are both capable of and willing to take responsibility for the consequences. When you no longer follow guidelines set by others. Therefore age doesn't really matter. It simply serves as an instrument that the rest of the world may use to judge whether or not you're an adult. And it's not all that accurate, as we all bloom at different times."

"So we've been adults for awhile then!" Fred and George agreed loudly, after several moments of silence.

"Have you?" Vivian asked with a raised eyebrow. 

"Yeah!" 

"We always make our own decisions! And we break a lot of rules!"

"And you take responsibility for those decisions?"

"Umm... well, yeah..."

"Most of the time..."

"Occasionally..."

"Until you can answer that question with a 'yes', without even thinking about it," Vivian shook her head, "than no, you are not an adult. No matter how old you are." 

Before anyone could reply, a great wave of magical power rippled through the air, throwing all of them out of their chairs and into the air. 

Vivian was released from the magical wave almost immediately, and she dropped to the ground. She landed on her feet with the grace of a cat, but quickly dropping down onto her right knee and catching herself with her right hand, so that her legs didn't need to take the full shock of the landing.

None of the others noticed this though, for their thoughts were all turned inward, where the power was changing something...

It was over almost as quickly as it had begun, but only a quick series of "_Wingardium Leviosa!_", on Vivian's part, saved the other witches and wizards from severe physical bruising, as all of them were no longer conscious.

~ * ~

Had there been anyone else in the Riddle House that evening, they would have been quite terrified. The cold, high and undoubtedly evil laugh that echoed through its halls would have ensured that.

"~_Sooo,~_" the Dark Lord hissed to his large pet snake, Nagini, "_~They thought to hide their loved ones from me by ancient magic, did they, my pet?~_" he chuckled, "_~It would appear that Potter's Mudblood wife really was an expert in the Ancient Arts, or at least more so then anyone else alive today... I wonder if her **dear**, so long forgotten, daughter has such talents? Or perhaps she takes more after her Muggle-loving father?~_" 

He continued, watching as the figure in the black and white picture that had served as the key to freeing those memories, fired the stupefaction curse once again. 

"_~But, then again, she seems to be different from them both... she has, after all, lived a much darker life... as an orphan...~_" He laughed, "_~Perhaps there is still the chance that I will be able to turn one of the Potter's after all!~_" After a moment of more of that hideous laughter, he shook his head. "_~If not... I just have another Potter to kill...~_"

~ * ~

"How is your training with Vivian going?"

Harry looked up over the table, and shrugged, "It's ok... I'm not that good, though..."

They were currently seated in the Manor's glittering Second Dining Hall, which had fine glass windows taking up most of three of the walls, and offering a spectacular view of the nearby grounds. They had eaten here often since their arrival, as the First Hall was only used for special occasions; guests, holidays, and celebrations. However, unlike many of the previous times they had dined here, there were only two settings adorning the table. This was because Vivian was dining elsewhere, and was not the least bit likely to return for supper.

Aunt Petunia laughed, "Don't be so hard on yourself, Vivian thinks you're doing very well."

"How do you know that?" he asked, as he continued eating his supper.

The meal was one they'd learned to expect from the house elves. In other words: perfect. It hadn't taken the Potter house elves long to determine what pleased their new masters the most. For no house elf wanted their masters displeased... even the house elves of the Potter Manor, who had always been treated kindly and well.

"She told me."

"Oh..." Harry sighed. "I just can't help but feel like I'm disappointing her... I didn't make _any_ progress yesterday in Occlumacy!"

Petunia Evans watched her nephew for several minutes, before shaking her head. "From what Vivian's told me, Occlumacy is _extremely_ difficult... and it should be, the mind is an intricate thing... To master it will undoubtedly take a great deal of hard work, and time." She smiled softly, "Both of which I'm sure your more than willing to give..."

Harry frowned, and thought a moment, before nodding slightly, "Yeah, I guess you're right..." he returned her smile, "Thanks, Aunt Petu-" he stopped abruptly as he doubled over in pain, his hands flying to his forehead as the glass of milk they'd been holding dropped to the floor.

"Harry?!" His aunt yelled, jumping to her feet. "Harry, what's wrong?!"

~ * ~

Vivian sighed. She'd brought the entire group from the Great Hall, all the way down to the hospital wing on conjured stretchers, only to find that Madame Pomphrey had also been knocked unconscious by the aftershock. While she certainly wasn't helpless when it came to medical expertise - she _was_ an Auror, and had been one for quite some time, after all - it wasn't really something she specialized in.

Nonetheless, she could levitated all of the unconscious wizards onto infirmary beds, cover them with blankets, place a cool cloth on each of their foreheads, and pick out the potions that they would probably need to speed their recovery.

Then - she could have hit herself - she realized what she really probably should have done all along. With a sigh, she decided she should start with Madame Pomphrey, as she was the medical expert. "_Ennervate._"

It took the medi-witch a few moments to gain her bearings as she woke. "Wh-what happened?" she asked softly, as her eyes fell upon the young witch who'd obviously just awaken her.

"Some time of magical shock wave," Vivian replied smoothly, "it knocked everyone out..."

"Oh...oh!" the older witch jumped to her feet when she saw that almost every bed in the infirmary was full. 

It hadn't taken Vivian long to arrange this. As foreign as the Hogwarts Hospital Wing itself was to her (she'd only been able to find it because of how closely she'd studied the Castle's blue prints), as an Auror, she's seen similar arrangements many times. The many white-decked beds, the available privacy screens, and the various medical supplies were things she'd almost always found in Hospital settings.

"I wasn't sure if I should wake them," Vivian admitted as she watched the medi-witch begin to check the others over.

"Wake them?" Madame Pomphrey blinked, "Oh, yes! Of course we should! Who knows what affects that wave might've had, we must at least _try_ to wake them!"

"Alright," Vivian nodded, before making her way down to the other end of the room and starting there. She shook her head slightly when she saw Madame Pomphrey frowning at the large, Grim-like dog she'd levitated onto the bed next to Remus. "There's more to that one than there seems to be." She called, not showing any reaction when the older witch snapped a slightly panicked gaze towards her. "I think he's an Animagus," she lied, she _knew_ he was an Animagus, and she knew who he was, but she couldn't really say that!

"Then we should probably wake him too..."

It was then that a thought struck Vivian. '_If **everyone** at Hogwarts was hit this badly, then what about everyone else? The Ministry, the hospitals... Harry!_' She spun around abruptly. "I'm sorry, Madame," she apologized the medi-witch, "but I think I should check in at the Ministry."

"Oh, yes!" The medi-witch nodded, "Yes, of course. Don't you worry about us dear, I've got everything in control." Then she smiled, "And you made it so much easier by setting everyone up like this, thank you."

"A pleasure, I assure you..." Vivian replied, before hurrying out of the room. However, she stopped just outside the door, and called back into the medi-witch. "I will check down in the Potions lab for Professor Snape before I leave, and will send him up to you."

"Yes, thank you!" Madame Pomphrey called back. Then the medi-witch quickly turned her full attention to her sudden abundance of patients. She didn't really pay the Auror's departure any mind. Indeed, she would have forgotten it entirely, had it not been for the Hogwarts Potions Master's arrival atop an enchanted table a short time later.

Even then, the only thing she noted on the Auror was that she was clearly well acquainted with Wizarding first aid [No duh, she's an Auror!]. For although it certainly looked more than a little strange, the table Vivian had used as transport fit standards perfectly.

~ * ~

__

Hermione Granger didn't know what to do. 

She didn't know what happened. 

And she didn't know how to find out. 

She was in an empty dark area... except it wasn't really dark. For darkness didn't seem to really exist here... But there light didn't seem to exist either... 

She didn't know how long she'd been there, not only because she had no way of tracking time here, but also because she didn't think time really existed...

Nothing had changed since her arrival in this dark, but not dark, timeless, intricate and confusing maze...

But that was about to change...

For something did suddenly appear...

She felt like she was being pulled into a dream... or was it a vision...?

The nothingness became darkness, a frame for that new picture...

It was then that she became aware of the fact that she wasn't alone... There were many other people here as well, and she knew they were seeing exactly what she was... She could sense Ron, Ginny, Fred, George, Percy, Bill, Charlie... and hundreds upon hundreds more people... But out of the people she'd been with before being blown into this strange state, only the younger Weasleys were present with her...

But she didn't have much time to think on that. As the vision they'd all been awaiting appeared...

Ten glowing figures stood in a circle, chanting... their wands and faces turned toward the center of the circle... 

Then her eyes, and millions of others, snapped open. 

~ * ~

It was one of the few times anyone might've seen her looking anything less than perfectly collected. But, they would have to be conscious for that. 

And Vivian had sent far too many unconscious employees to the medical ward (her department's ward), to believe that that was possible... 

She already knew that the Ward's medics and Healers were conscious to receive their sudden overload of patients, for she had awakened them herself only a few minutes before.

Now, as she made her way across the dark and shimmering hard wood floor of her department's entrance hall, conjuring up stretchers and levitating people into them as she went, she noticed something else was different.

It caused her to stopped and blinked. 

It was the fountain...

The graceful and elegant display of the _Circle of Nitor-Arma_ hadn't changed, but what they were standing on had. The base of the fountain was no longer white marble, it was black...

And that was when her mind caught up with her... 

**__**

~ * Flashback * ~

"You don't have to," her new second in command, Riatanya Willow told her, brushing long strawberry blond bangs away from bright blue eyes. "It's just something a lot of people like to do... It kind of makes something frivolous more useful."

Vivian laughed pleasantly, "Frivolous?" she raised an eyebrow, "The fountain in the Atrium is certainly frivolous, and inaccurate. This, is not, at least by an educational stand point."

"What is it anyway?" 

It was rare that Vivian allowed an eyebrow to go as high as she did now, "You, are Brigadier General, and you don't know what the Circle of Nitor-Arma_ is?"_

"Oh...something important, then?" the other witch flashed a bright smile, "Well, I'll be sure to look it up, commander."

Vivian laughed. "Still, I suppose we **could** make the fountain a little more useful then it already is..."

General Willow nodded, "Yeah... why don't you just set it up as a detector of some sort? Something that applies to the Circle_?"_

"Hmm...Not a bad idea." After a moment's consideration, Vivian pointed her wand at the fountain's base, and began muttering under her breath.

****

~ * End of Flashback * ~

Vivian didn't know what to think of this...

She hadn't really told Harry's friends everything about the _Circle_. She'd told them what anyone would be able to look up in an accurate Wizarding library with a reasonable collection of ancient texts.

In all actuallity, the _Circle_ could be formed for another reason as well. Instead of focusing on raising the powers of one person - a _Circle_ could also be used to cast one _powerful_ spell...

The last time the _Circle of Nitor-Arma_ had been used was to cast the spell that had kept her identity hidden from the Wizarding world... 

For nearly fifteen years it had always been there, both hated and loved, a shield against the world... and now... it was _gone_...

The spell was broken... 

~ * ~

[This isn't _exactly_ a flashback... it's more of a vision/memory that everyone (who was involved) is seeing...]

**__**

July, 1981 - Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Once again, the members of the Order of the Phoenix were gathered in the secret room alongside the Headmaster's office. And once again, they were arguing...

Since it had become obvious that there was a traitor amongst them, that **someone** was serving the Dark Lord as an informant, the members of the Order hadn't really been able to trust each other nearly as much as they would need to in order to win the war.

"Silence!" Dumbledore's voice (once again) called for peace. "I am well aware," the old wizard began with a sigh, "That many - if not all - of you are very angry. And you have a right to be," he conceded. "However, we're all here for a common goal, and I ask that you not allow yourselves drift astray from it."

Many muted nods were the only replies he received, as it appeared that no one trusted themselves enough to actually speak...

"Now, we must attend to what we have to discuss." The Headmaster waited a moment before continuing. "We have recently learned, that the Potters," he nodded to Lily and James Potter, who were seated a short distance from him. "Have become Lord Voldemort's primary targets."

The vast majority of the Order members turned concerned glances toward the young couple. Lily and James had been the Head's of their year, but more important than that, they were extremely well liked... 

"Mrs. Potter and Madame d'Ark, who have been handling the vast majority of the research in the Ancient Arts for us, have discovered a spell that may be of some use..." he nodded to the two witches. "Lily, Inès?"

The two looked at each other. After a moment, Lily nodded to the older witch.

The blonde offered a gentle smile, before beginning, "Thank you, Albus... The spell we have found, is both complex and simplistic," she raised a hand to forestall the coming protests, "as odd as this may sound, it is true..." she sighed. "Almost everything about the spell; the format, the properties, the linguistics, all of it, is **simple**. But the spell itself, or more precisely: what it is meant to do, is not."

"And what exactly is it meant to do, Madame?" Frank Longbottom inquired politely.

"Obliviate the World."

~ * ~

Madame Pomphrey gave a start as all of the Professor's suddenly awoke at the exact same time, just as the children had a few minutes before, almost exactly an hour after the helpful General had left to check in at the Ministry. 

As the adults began to rise, her brows drew together, "_Slow down!_" she snapped at them, causing both those the command it was directed at (the adults) to wince in recognition, and the others (the children) to wince reflexively. "You've just endured a considerable amount of shock, you should take things _slowly_." 

She didn't object again, as the adults moved themselves carefully into sitting positions. But she did make sure to keep a close eye on all of them.

However her attention was drawn to the open door by a gentle, but firm, knock. 

"May I help you?" the School nurse asked, turning slightly toward the dark haired woman who stood there.

The light robed witch smiled softly as she entered the room. "Actually, I was hoping to be of some help to you, Madam. General Potier thought you might need assistance, as those injured in Hogsmeade are being directed up here."

"O-oh, well thank you, Miss...?"

"Zoe Derwent," the younger witch replied, "Healer; Captain."

"_Captain?_" the medi-witch blinked.

"It's the way our Sector works," Derwent explained, her dark eyes amused.

"You're not from Saint Mungo's?" 

"Oh, no! I work in the Healers Ward for General Potier's Sector." 

"The Aurors have a Healers Ward?" Mrs. Weasley asked.

"No," Derwent replied, "Just Potier's Sector."

"Alright," Mrs. Weasley nodded tiredly, turning her head slightly towards her youngest son. "If you _really_ want to be an Auror, I'm fine with it, but only if you work for Vivian's Sector."

Captain Derwent laughed, before setting the large black-leather bag she'd been carrying on the floor, and turning her attention back to the other medi-witch. "We should probably get things ready up here. My colleague; Corporal Amy Wright is down in Hogsmeade now, handling first aid, minor injuries and recovery. But she's sending anything serious up here." The dark-eye witch winced slightly, "And there'll probably be a few of them, judging by the smoke I saw when we passed it..." 

~ * ~

It wasn't an easy thing, Draco Malfoy found, to open his eyes after being knocked out. He wasn't sure _what_ had knocked him out, for it had happened far too quickly... Nonetheless, he did eventually manage to force his pale eyelids open to reveal pained silvery-blue eyes. 

'_What happened?_' he wondered, but that small thought made him gasp in pain, and his hands quickly flew up to his throbbing head. He'd never had a headache like this before... he didn't know how to describe it.

It was like a steady, unending, and _relentless_ wave of pain that seemed to come from both inside and outside his head.

And that was what caused him to close his eyes, and fall back into the unconscious world once again.

Therefore, he didn't hear the main door to his rooms open, and didn't see the worried look on his father's face as he entered the room. 

He didn't see the _slightly_ panicked look in the man's eyes when the older Malfoy spotted him. 

He wasn't conscious to feel himself being picked up and quickly moved to the bed that was in the other room by a pair of strong his arms. 

And he didn't see him hurry off to call a healer...

~ * ~

It was shortly after ten o'clock that evening, when Vivian finally arrived home. The chaos at the Ministry had kept her there for the last few hours, much to her annoyance, but it couldn't be helped. Nor could the panic that flooded her heart when she stepped through the Floo, to find her aunt pacing in the entrance hall. 

"Aunt Petunia?" she asked nervously, watching as her startled aunt jumped slightly, before turning to face her.

"Oh, Vivian!" Aunt Petunia cried, relief flooding her features, "Thank _heavens_ you're here!"

"What is it?" the Auror asked, "What's wrong?"

"It's Harry! He started screaming during suppertime; in pain. From a headache, I think." The Muggle woman shook her head, "It went on for hours. He only just stopped screaming, and fell asleep a little over half an hour ago..."

Vivian had already crossed the entrance hall, and was hurrying down the Manor's corridors, her aunt a few steps behind her, when the woman finished. It took her little more than five minutes to reach the entrance to her brother's rooms, although that in itself seemed far too long, and only the knowledge that her aunt was one step behind her kept her from Apparating. 

As she entered the room, she immediately noted the sweat that covered the teenager's face, which had obviously expressed tremendous pain for a very long amount of time; she'd seen enough victims of the Cruciatus curse to recognize that. He seemed to be having some difficulty breathing, but other than that seemed to be in a deep, peaceful sleep.

After taking all this in, she waved her wand, conjuring a bowl of cool water and a washcloth on the bedside table, and turned back to her aunt. "Use that, I'm going to go call a healer. I won't be long." Before turning to leave, she pulled a phial of silver liquid out of one of her robe's many hidden pockets. "Pour this in there, too.

Receiving a nod from her Muggle Aunt, she turned and hurried from the room. This time, once outside the door, she did Apparate: directly to her study. Crossing the room and going around to her chair, she sank down into it, opening one of the side drawers as she did so. After a few minutes of rummaging through the items the drawer held, she pulled out a small crystal globe that was filled with a white mist.

"_Major Llewelyn,_" she called, and the globe began to glow as it sought out the person she called. 

A moment later, the face of a witch in her early fifties with long, tied back white hair and pale blue eyes set in her well-aged visage, appeared. "_Vivian!_" her brows creased in concern. "_What's wrong?_"

"_Good evening, Rebecca,_" the General replied softly, "_How are things going?_"

The head of her Healers Ward raised an eyebrow, but replied nonetheless. "_Well enough, we've finally managed to get everything under control..._"

"_That's good to hear,_" Vivian sighed. "_Can you spare anyone?_"

"_What for?_" the Healer cocked her head curiously.

"_My brother did not react well to the occurrence..._" she replied smoothly.

Now the older witch did bother hiding her concern, "_How bad is he?_"

"_Lower red, at the moment. He may worsen._"

The Healer Major nodded, "_I'll send Nicholas over... Is this on the record, or off?_"

"_Off._"

Again, the Healer nodded, "_Very well. Good evening, General._"

"_Good evening,_" Vivian nodded in reply before closing the transmission.

~ * ~

"What _was_ that, Albus?" Mrs. Weasley asked as another meeting of the Order of the Phoenix began, this time in the hidden chamber beside the Headmaster's quarters again.

"Don't you remember?" Sirius asked, his voice pained.

"Remember what?" Mrs. Weasley replied, blinking. "I barely remember anything from the... vision. It's all blurry now."

"It will clear, with time, no doubt." Dumbledore told her. Then, he sighed. "It would seem, that for a long time now, we have forgotten some very important things..."

"What'd you mean?" Mundungus Fletcher asked, looking confused.

"Remus?" Dumbledore offered, nodding to the younger wizard.

"A little over fifteen years ago," the werewolf began, "When we first became aware that the Dark Lord was after the Potters... it seems we did more than just place them under the Fidelius charm, or, at least, we tried to..." he sighed. "Lily and a coworker had been researching Ancient Magic for quite some time, and had come across a spell that would certainly protect them... Essentially, it would 'Obliviate the World', as the coworker phrased it." Now he shook his head, "Obviously, we didn't want to just start casting ancient spells that we knew almost nothing about, so we agreed to try a test run."

Only Dumbledore's raised hand prevented almost everyone in the room from bursting into questions. "Please, let Remus finish..."

The former DADA Professor sighed, "We had planned to ensure that the spell served its purpose, and we set it up, so that we could then add on to the spell. As the Potters were the ones in the most amount of danger at the time, it was decided that they would be the first we used the spell on..."

"So what's the big deal?" Tonks, whose hair was currently shoulder-length and neon green, asked. "It obviously didn't work."

"On the contrary, Nymphadora," Professor Dumbledore shook his head; "it worked all too well..." 

~ * ~

Harry's soft moan would not have been noticed, if the two other people in the room had been talking instead of watching him. The next would've though, but the wet cloth Vivian pressed gently to his brow seemed to help.

"Is he going to be alright?" Petunia Evans asked, watching as her niece continued to wipe the soothing cloth across the teenager's forehead.

Vivian didn't answer. She didn't even say anything until she looked up several minutes later, toward the door. "What is it, Laurel?"

The house elf she'd just addressed bowed apologetically before replying. "Laurel though Milady would like to know that Master Healer Dolohov has arrived, and is waiting in the Floo Entrance Hall.

"Thank you," the Auror replied, rising to her feet, "Please tell him that I will be with him shortly..." With a sigh, she handed the wet cloth to her aunt, and with one last glance at her little brother, left the room.

~ * ~

The members of the Order of the Phoenix were quite obviously in shock.

"A s-sister?" Mrs. Weasley broke the heavy silence. "H-Harry has an older sister...?"

Dumbledore nodded with a sigh, "Who, thanks to the spell, has remained nonexistent in the minds of all... for the past fifteen years."

"Oh, _Merlin!_" Remus gasped, his eyes wide.

"What is it, Remus?" Professor McGonagall asked.

"I just realized..." the werewolf replied shakily, "Lily and James died, without even knowing they had a daughter!"

"Worse yet," Mrs. Weasley murmured, "the poor child. What must she have thought with everything in the papers? The media covered the Dark Lord's first downfall for _years_ afterward!"

"So where is she?" Tonks asked a few moments later.

"I am afraid," Dumbledore sighed, and shook his head. "We don't know..."

"You don't _know?_" Several people cried, their eyes wide.

"No," the Headmaster replied calmly, his eyes sad. "We believe that our minds have yet to fully adjust to the absence of the magical barrier that has been present there for so long. Therefore we are having difficulty remembering everything. Those who truly knew the child will undoubtedly remember her first." He finished, nodding to Remus and Sirius.

"Do you remember anything?" Professor McGonagall asked them.

Both nodded.

"I remember little bits and pieces..." Remus replied quietly.

Sirius nodded in agreement. "She looked like Lily, but she had James' hair... poor girl." He chuckled. "I think..." he shook his head, "I kind of remember when James and Lily were trying to decide what her name should be... They came up with something that rhymed with Lily's name..."

"Ally, Abby, Bonnie...?" Tonks tried.

Picking up where the younger witch left off, Madame Vance added; "Carrie, Jenny, Debbie, Jessie...?"

"No," Remus shook his head, "It did rhyme with 'Lily', it rhymed with 'Lillian'..."

"'Lillian'?" Tonks blinked, "But I thought 'Lily' _was_ her full name..."

Remus nodded, "It was... Lillian was what her grandmother always liked to call her..."

"Oh..." Tonks nodded

Then the guessing game began again. 

"Gillian...?" Madam Vance suggested.

"Ian?" Tonks offered.

"Ian's a boys name!" Mundungus Fletcher objected, his baggy, bloodshot eyes snapping over toward the younger spell caster. 

"_So?_" the Auror replied.

__

End of Chapter 11. 

Translations:

Consanguina - related by blood (Latin)

Nitor - to trust in/depend on

Arma - military power; protection, defense

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Responses to Reviews:

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Xirleb70 - LOL, thank you. ^_^* (And I'm sure your writing isn't that bad!...But why do you have two stories on hold? Your writing won't improve if you don't write!)

"Warm and fuzzy"? *Blink* *Blink* I never thought of it that way, but if it works for you; great!

Thanks for reading and reviewing! ^_^

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Jaded*Secrets - H! ^_^

LOL, you're welcome. 

I'm not sure "inspiration" is the right word... but suppose it's something along those lines... Good reviews definitely motivate me to go faster... :-D

Compliments? I like compliments. :-D I can't guarantee they'll get the story out faster, because a lot of my stories seem to have a mind of their own at times. 

LOL... Well, then; "Sweet dreams!"

No, thank you. ^_^ I like talking to my reviewers... 

Thanks... I know a lot of author's don't bother replying to reviews. Some don't reply at _all_! I usually don't review those authors a lot, because I don't really think they'll notice. It doesn't take long to read a review, and it doesn't take all that much longer to respond. So I don't know why people don't do it. Yeah, I know. "Complimenting your computer" really isn't that much fun. So I hope you never feel I'm like that! Because I honestly don't intend to be! 

You're an aunt? How old is she? Have you met her yet? [If you have:] What's she like?... LOL, yes, she will probably be very spoiled. First children/only children usually are... I'm speaking from experience on that. I have an older brother, but he's fifteen years older than me. So I was basically an only child, because he was away at college, then out in the real world before I even started school!   
  
LOL, well I'll assume once again that you're reading late, and I'll bid you goodnight and sweet dreams! ^_^ 

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Sunrunner of Summer - LOL...Well, not quite, but they're moving along. 

Hey! The last chapter was out pretty quickly!...wasn't it? 

Thank you. ^_^

...Yes.

...Umm...You'll have to wait on that one........

LOL, actually, yes, I was writing this last chapter before I posted the last one. 

Thanks for reviewing! :-D

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Apple Reaper - LOL. Thank you, I'm glad you like it. ^_^

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Everpresent - LOL... I'm going to flashback to the first time I read the opening of your review:

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'Oh! Everpresent's reviewed again!' :-D

Reads: "Well this was unexpected_..."_

*Flinches* 'Ahhh!...What I do? What I do?'

Reads further: "- the speed of delivery, not the content._"_

*Release a relived sigh,* 'Ohhhh... ok... nothing wrong... nothing bad... this is good... read further...'  


[End flashback]

LOL...What can I say? I like *cough*_love!_*cough* cliffhangers! :-D Don't we all? (Referring to writers, not readers)   


Well, I hope this chapter wasn't a disappointment. 

Umm... This chapter answered that, didn't it? 

LOL... Yes, that is pretty much the canon Draco... But I still say that we haven't seen anything in the books (aside from his support of Voldemort and the prejudices he's been raised to) that show he's anything more than a brat.... And I honestly haven't seen a fanon Draco portrayed as truly evil. Even when authors have intended to make a character that's really evil, be it Draco or anyone else... It's not an easy thing to do. And I don't think J.K. Rowling has managed it with _any_ of her characters... Yes, we know Voldemort (and everyone who supports him) is(are) bad. But that's it. They're protagonists. That's all. We've yet to see them do _anything_ that would really make them look evil... Actually, no I take that back... Book 5 was an exception in a few areas:

I would consider (the house elf) Kreacher, as evil - if he most definitely wasn't insane. The only place where Voldemort has ever _really_ shown as **_especially_** _Dark_ side was when he possessed Harry, and told Dumbledore to kill him. That was evil. Bellatrix Black Lestrange - even though she was also insane, I'd still rate her as a pretty good evil doer... 

Those are the three of the four points in the HP series where J.K. Rowling has managed to really creep me out... the fourth was the Chamber of Secrets - and that's really because of the movie. (I don't really like snakes...)

Yes, Draco is headed down an evil path, and the canon Draco really doesn't look like he'll ever turn back, or even consider it... But I still think he's really only a brat who wants to be like his father...

LOL, well you had to talk (write) it out some where! Feel better? Or did my response make it worse? 

Yay! Someone else who likes the "nurturing Petunia"! I was beginning to think no one would ever like her! I mean, I know she's (WAY) out of character, but this is fan fiction... so what?

LOL, yes, we like conflicted Sirius! ^_^ 

:-D Oh, there _will_ be conflict. I promise you that. 

Yes, Occlumacy stands a much better chance of being successful here...

Yes, "Viv" (great nick name, btw!) is somewhat of a "guardian angel", and she wants to protect & support Harry, more than anything. But Harry will be going back to school soon... and we all know how much trouble he can get into there! 

There will be conflict. There will be tension. There will be humor. There will be suspense. There will be action. There will be tears.... As long as I can keep the story flowing smoothly along the plot line! 

Thanks for both reading and reviewing. I liked your review a lot... It got me thinking a bit. And I (usually) like that. ^_^

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Rachel A. Prongs - Thank you, I'm glad. 

Yes, probably...

LOL, doesn't she? 

Thanks! ^_^

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Littletoaster2345 - LOL... thank you. I'm sorry for the wait! 

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Last Hope - LOL. Thank you. How was this chapter?

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Wytil - ...umm... Thank you... very much... I'm not a pro... Trust me, I'm nowhere near that... but thank you for the compliment. 

I'm glad you like this story, and LS.

*Sigh*... yes. LS isn't really cooperating at the moment... It doesn't help that V-Star (the co-author) is away for most of the summer! She's too busy to help, and I'm a bit stuck with a few of the scenes....

Arigato! J 

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CBeMe - I'm glad...

LOL... yes, that's something I've found that I'm rather good at... It's getting him out of the situation that tends to be the problem!

YAY! Someone else who likes the OOC Aunt Petunia!... LOL, honestly, that really was just a split second decision, to begin with. And I've found that I like it... So I kept it.

Thank you for reviewing! ^_^

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Makulit - LOL, yatta! New reader! ^_^ 

Honestly, *whispers*; "I don't either!" 

Oh, I thought your pen name looked familiar! Welcome! 

As I told Wytil, I'm working on LS, but it's giving me quite a bit of difficulty. I'll try to update it within the next week...

Thanks, glad to hear it!

*Sigh* I know... honestly, I agree with you on the Weasley's (for the most part). But they'd have a hell of a time with everyone else. And the spell would make so that _no_ one could even begin to think that Harry having an older sister was even possible. So they'd automatically rebel against the idea. And assume she's brainwashed Harry, or something along those lines... Really, I've written some of those scenes! You'll never see them, but I _did_ try them! 

Yes, 'tis cruel. But we all have to be cruel sometimes. And don't worry... They'll know soon. 

Thanks for reading! ^_^

AN: Well, that's it for Chapter 11! What'd you guys think? 

Just thought I'd tell you in advance; I may not have the next chapter out as quickly as the last few ones... It's a bit longer... But I'll try to have it out by next weekend, or, at the very latest, the following one... I'm also trying to update some other fics, so *shrugs* Who knows?

Thanks for reading! ^_^

Now you're supposed to do the _other_ part!

REVIEW!

REVIEW!!

REVIEW!!!

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REVIEW!!!

All you have to do is go down to the little box down in the left-hand corner... see it? Does it say "Submit Review"? It does? GREAT! Now, see the little purple box just to the right of it? Does it say "Go"? It does? GREAT! Click it!!! And write a nice little review. Please.... I haven't gotten any flames so far, so I don't expect any from anyone who's read this far, but it you feel the urge, please repress it. Thank you. ^_^

I've told you how, now please;

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REVIEW!!!

Bye! ^_^

~ Jess S


	13. Chapter 12: Healing & Preparation

Disclaimer: I own the plot, I apologize if it's been done before. Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.  
  
AN: Hi! Real AN at the end! Enjoy!

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Consanguina by Jess S  
  
Chapter 12: Healing & Preparation

Nicholas Dolohov was really nothing like any other member of his family. He was from a long line of pureblood witches and wizards, who had always been sorted into Slytherin house, and occasionally into Ravenclaw, as he himself was. If you looked at him, you wouldn't think there was really anything spectacular about him. He was of average height with a slightly plump figure, pale brown hair and hazel eyes. 

Really, the only thing interesting about him in appearance was his attire. His robes were the uniform of his station; with a formfitting waist, chest, and shoulders, they loosened only slightly on the sleeves, before sweeping down in a long, flowing back. These were the robes of his craft; that of a healer, and you could tell by their coloring that he was of very high rank. The mostly pale gray robes were lined with white, signifying his rank as a second lieutenant. 

You had to be considerably skilled to reach that high a rank, and that was the one great exception to Dolohov's character. He was _very_ gifted in the healing arts. Arts that he was now practicing in the Potter Manor, under it's lady's watchful eyes as he tended to none other than the Boy-Who-Lived himself.

He'd been there for many hours. The boy hadn't been in the best of shape when he'd arrived, and while the healer had certainly _wondered_ what the teenager was doing here, he knew better than to ask questions. Beside that, the boy was clearly in need of his attention, so he hadn't had any time to ask, anyhow.

It was shortly after dawn that the healer was finally able to relax, the boy's condition stable. 

"Nicholas?"

With a weary sigh, the healer turned toward the younger woman: his commanding officer, and dear friend. "He is stable, for now," he told her in a tired, but nonetheless pleased tone. "I've managed to bring his temperature down, but it was up around forty degrees [C - 104°F], which isn't necessarily bad," he assured her, "as long as it doesn't start to go up again. I've managed to bring it down to thirty-seven point eight [C - 100°F], so he should be fine, for now."

"Thank you, Nicholas," Vivian smiled, "it means a great deal to me."

"I can tell," Dolohov replied, while carefully re-packing his black-leather briefcase. When he was done, it closed with a snap, and he left five different bottles on the bedside table. "He'll need to take a dose of each of these potions until they run out." He picked up a dark blue bottle that was about the size of his fist, "This is _Stataria_: a stabilizer. He'll need this every three hours for the next week. And, for the week after that, every six hours." Setting that one aside he picked up the next one, a clear bottle that easily fit in the palm of his hand. It contained a pale, silvery-blue liquid, which the healer identified as; "_Deflagro_: a coolant. He'll only need this if his temperature augments again, as long as it stays below thirty-seven point eight [°C - 100°F]." The next bottle was also clear, and the liquid inside was only slightly opaque. The potion looked like a pale, wispy cloud trapped in a pool of water. "_Malacae_: for the migraines..."

Vivian nodded, "That's only for use during an attack, correct?"

"Yes," Dolohov nodded, "You can give it to him before, if he manages to sense it coming on, but other than that, a regular pain reliever would be better for any time after an attack." He then moved on to the next potion. This bottle was much larger than the other two, and the green glass was cut more along the lines of rectangle, rather than a cylinder. The liquid inside made the glass seem darker than it actually was. "This is _Paean_. He needs to take a dose of this, twice a day until he runs out of it." Finally, he reached the last potion, "And this is _Relaxare_: for stress. He should take this every morning for the next week, and whenever he feels particularly stressed."

"Thank you," the General nodded in understanding. "I'll never be able to repay you for this."

The healer raised an eyebrow, "Nonsense! You've saved my life more than once! And I'm still under your protection, am I not? I have to earn that _somehow!_"

"_No,_" Vivian disagreed, "you don't. You've more than earned it all ready, with all the lives you save and the many pains you ease every day."

Dolohov shook his head, "Perhaps..." he sighed. "But it can never be enough..." He looked up as his commander laid a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"You may be a Dolohov by birth, but you are, and always will be your own person, Nicholas. You are not guilty of any of your families sins, and have nothing - _nothing_," she emphasized the word while watching his face carefully, "to repent for."

The Dolohov's, like many, not all, but many pureblood families of their class, were completely loyal to Lord Voldemort and his cause. Nicholas, however, was not. He hadn't been forced to join the Death Eaters when he was younger, because he'd only graduate a year before the Lord met his downfall in the one who lay before the healer now. He had chosen to pursue a career as a healer, which his family had supported, as healers were tremendously needed during those dark times, therefore the Ministry didn't focus much on their family. 

A year before, when the Dark Lord had risen again, he had been faced with the dilemma once again, and he had instead chosen to turn to his friends within the Ministry: the other healer's in Vivian's Sector. They had in turn sent them to Vivian herself. 

"We received another emergency house call last night," Nicholas told the General, deciding the change the topic. 

"Oh?" She replied, well aware of the diversion, and choosing to go along with it.

The healer nodded, "Yes, I tended to Mr. Malfoy's son myself, before coming here."

"What was wrong with him?"

"Nothing," Nicholas shook his head. "At least, nothing I could find. Apparently he just didn't react well to the aftershock of the wave's release."

"Hmm, no," Vivian nodded, "he wouldn't... Will he recover, then?"

Nicholas nodded, "I advised a few days bed rest and left some _Malacae_ and _Relaxare_ with him. He'll heal much more quickly than... your brother, I presume?"

"Yes," the Auror confirmed.

"Ah, so you are the 'Boy-Who-Lived's Mysterious Elder Sibling'." Seeing the look she sent his way, he continued. "I happen to bump into Ms. Skeeter when I was leaving headquarters - I think she'd been trying to get something out of the desk clerks.... anyway, I believe that was the title of her next article." 

~ * ~

It was just past eight o'clock in the morning that saw the exhausted members of the Order of the Phoenix entering the Great Hall for breakfast. They'd had little success the night before, having come up with no name that rung any bells, and no idea as to what to do next.

It didn't _really_ surprise them, when they found all of the 'children' already seated around the table. What did surprise them, however, was that the 'children' did not immediately beginning attacking them with questions like they usually did after Order meetings. Instead, they seemed to be far too interested in whatever they were talking about to even take notice of the older wizards' arrival. 

As they neared the table, they saw just what the object of their attention was. A newspaper, or, to be more precise; _The Daily Prophet_.

"What's in there, now?" Mrs. Weasley asked, causing all of the 'children' to jump, startled. 

Instead of answering her inquiry, they immediately began asking questions of their own.

"Is it true?" Ron demanded even as Fred and George cried out, "Why can't we be in the Order?! We're adults!" Hermione's "Do you know who she is?" was less than half a second behind them and quickly followed by Ginny's "When can we meet her?!"

This sudden outburst, needless to say, startled and confused the tired 'adults', and it took them a few seconds to register what they'd been asked as they took seats around the table and began filling their plates.

"Is what true, Ron?" Mrs. Weasley asked with a sigh.

"The article!" her youngest son replied, "Does Harry _really_ have an older sister?"

Mrs. Weasley waited for a nod of approval from the Headmaster before replying, "Yes," she sighed. "I assume both your question, Hermione, and Ginny's question refer to the same subject?"

Both younger witches nodded.

"Alright," she sighed again, before turning her attention to the twins. "And as to yours, you've already been told! You can't join the Order until you graduate!"

Had it not been for the look on their mother's face, the twins probably would have objected rather forcefully, but seeing her current temperament, they instead turned their attention to their breakfast.

"Now," Professor McGonagall called the student's attention to herself, "what article are you referring to, exactly?"

"It's in today's _Daily Prophet_," Hermione replied. "Rita Skeeter wrote it, it takes up the entire first page and the two following pages!" she said handing the paper to Remus, who then passed it to McGonagall, who offered it to the Headmaster. 

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Potter - Not One, But _Two!_

~ * ~

"Good morning, General," the Minister's assistant, Dolores Umbridge greeted the Auror in her high-pitched voice, obviously assuming that her pointed teeth formed a pleasant, welcoming smile. "The Minister is waiting for you in his office."

"Thank you, Undersecretary." Vivian replied smoothly, not allowing any of her dislike for the woman to show as she walked past her desk and pushed open the double doors that led to the Minister of Magic's office. 

Inside, the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, sat behind his white marble desk, in his _very_ well cushioned black leather chair, signing various documents. The portly man apparently didn't hear the door click shut, for he didn't turn his attention away from the paperwork for even a moment's notice.

If anything could tell you why Fudge wanted to remain Minister of Magic, it was his office. The plush white rug that covered the floor, the intricate wallpaper, large and overly comfortable furniture (from Vivian's point of view), and the flashy knickknack's that adorned almost every part of the room assured that. It was one of the reason's Vivian had never liked coming to the Minister's office. Such open displays of wealth, (certainly funded by taxpayers, not by the man himself,) didn't seem befitting anyone of public stature. 

What's more, Vivian herself had gone to extreme efforts to ensure that everyone in her Sector was as comfortable and cared for as was possible. All of the finery in her office was only there because it would seem inappropriate for the head of the Sector to have anything less when the whole sector was outfitted along those lines. And, while many offices in the Sector contained the same ludicrous little crystal globes that ordained the Minister's office, they were there solely as a semi-attractive form of communication, and that was what they were used for, she didn't think the Minister used his for anything. And even if he did, he really didn't need thirty-six of them! (She'd counted them the last time she'd been here... She'd need _something_ to distract her from overly pompous idiot's attempts at administration!)

"Good morning, Minister," Vivian greeted coolly, causing the older wizard to jump in surprise, and look up his eyes a little wider usual. "You called?"

"O-oh, General Potier, how nice to see you!" Fudge replied jovially, once he'd managed to recollect himself, "Come, come, have a seat!" he offered, with a wave to one of the chairs in front of his seat.

The General shook her head, "I would rather stand, thank you."

"Oh... of course, of course..." the wizard nodded, clearly still trying to get a grasp on the situation. "Uhh... I was... I trust you've seen Ms. Skeeter's article in the _Prophet_?"

"I have."

"Yes, well... I was hoping you would look into it." Before she could respond, he blustered on, "You don't have to do it yourself, of course. But the Ministry has a right to know whom the Boy-Who-Lived's elder sibling is authentic, and who exactly she is." He finished pompously, before continuing with the same amount of hesitation he'd begun with. "A-And you've been so interested in the boy as of late, I thought..."

"I will look into it." Vivian assured him, with a small, but nonetheless firm nod. After a small pause, she continued. "If you don't mind my asking, Minister. What are your plans for the Defense Against the Dark Arts position at Hogwarts?"

"P-Plans?" the older man asked nervously. "What makes you think I have any plans for a teaching position at Hogwarts? Th-That's the Headmaster's responsibility, not mine."

"Indeed, but the Educational Decree - twenty two, isn't it? - that you're currently trying to pass would suggest otherwise."

"Ah, well... yes...It seems that - that the Headmaster has been having a great deal of difficulty with finding a suitable teacher for the position. So I thought I might help him out..."

"And whom do you intend to appoint?"

"Well I... I'm not quite sure... I-I have some candidates, but..."

"And who are they?"

"Oh... I, well, I thought Ms. Umbridge would do well, or perhaps Mr. Munch, as he's currently unemployed-"

"I fired Mr. Munch for quite realistic reasons, Minister. He couldn't handle himself in a crisis. Do you really think someone like that would be any good at teaching teenagers Defense?"

"I... well, I..."

"You must, of course, consider many things on such a decision, and I understand where it may become confusing." Vivian cut in smoothly. "Anyhow, will that be all?"

"Yes... yes, of course." Fudge nodded, "Have a good day then, General."

"And you as well, Minister," the Auror General replied, before turning on her heel and exiting the gaudy office. She pretended not to notice the handkerchief the wizard dragged across his shimmering forehead.

"I do apologize, Mr. Malfoy," she heard Umbridge say as she opened the door, "but the Minister is currently rather detained. But I'm sure he'll be with you shortly!"

"Indeed," was Lucius Malfoy's cool reply.

The General had to suppress a smile/smirk at that: knowing all too well that the Lord of the Malfoy Manor didn't like to be kept waiting. She knew, just as well, that even if she hadn't intentionally allowed the door to click shut, the older wizard would have looked up.

As always, he wasn't hard to look at. In a flawlessly tailored ensemble of mostly black silk, with some touches of green and silver lining, and dark-dragon-hide boots, he was the picture of elegance, just as he intended to be. However, she did note the barely noticeable dark circles under his eyes and the slightly ruffled fall of his usually sleek pale blonde hair; which were both _quite_ unusual for him. 

"Ah... Mademoiselle Potier, bonjour!" {Miss Potier, good morning!} He greeted her with a small smile and an accompanying nod.

"Bonjour, Monsieur Malfoy," Vivian replied, returning both the smile and the nod. "Ici sur des affaires?" {Here on business?} She inquired glancing quickly at the fist-size pouch of what she was certain could only be galleons, a barely noticeable glint of amusement in her eyes.

"Oui," the blonde nodded, "Vous-même?" {Yourself?}

"Oui..." She returned the nod again, "Ayez un beau jour alors." {Have a nice day, then.}

"Et vous aussi bien, Mademoiselle," {And you as well,} The Malfoy Lord replied, before nodding and sweeping into the Minister's office.

Vivian nodded slightly to the Minister's assistant before departing.

~ * ~

"The booklists just arrived," Hermione told Ron as she and Ginny entered his bedroom a little while later. They'd left only a short time before to see what was happening downstairs, as the three of them had been hiding out up here since they returned after breakfast this morning, hoping to escape Mrs. Weasley's endless cleaning spree. 

"About time," Ron muttered, "I'd thought they'd forgotten, they usually come earlier than this..." He then opened his letter as his best friend and his sister did the same from where they were seated on the other bed. "Only two new ones for us," he muttered, looking up at the other two. "What'd about you?"

"Same here," Ginny replied, "I've got _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4_, by Miranda Goshawk and _Defensive Magical Theory_, by Wilbert Slinkhard."

"Hey, me too! Only we've got _Grade 5_ for _The Standard Book of Spells_!" Ron told her, clearly surprised. After a moment, he looked up. "What'd about you, 'Mione?"

"Oh, I've got the same as you, and I need; _Rhombi Mathematica _by Natalie Nundinari, for Arithmancy and _Litterara Veterrimus_ by Lawrence K. Gnaritas, for Ancient Runes."

"Wow..." Ron muttered, "Sucks to be you..."

Hermione picked up the pillow that was on the bed she was sitting on and tossed it at him half-heartedly. After that, she turned to her other letter. Turning it upside down, she seemed to be the only one who was surprised when a gold and scarlet badge fell out and landed in her lap.

"It _really_ sucks to be you..." Ginny agreed with her brother's previous statement. 

~ * ~

Harry moaned softly, trying to wake. For some reason he felt like his eyes were sealed shut. Sealed in a way that made them incapable of ever opening again... That thought caused a flash of momentary panic, but his common sense quickly overrode it. Of course he could open his eyes! Nothing had happened to arrange otherwise... 

With that thought in mind his struggles began anew. He stopped however, tensing when he felt someone gently brush a soft wet cloth across his eyelids before continuing up to his forehead.

Deciding that someone who meant him harm couldn't possibly be this gentle, he chanced moving, and found that he could now open his eyes. It wasn't easy, as every part of his body seemed innately exhausted, but he managed.

At first, he wondered when whoever was beside him was going to put his glasses on, because his vision was a little blurry. But then he remembered that he didn't _need_ glasses anymore! Vivian had fixed his eyesight... so why was everything so out of focus?

"Good morning, Harry."

"Aunt Petunia?" he asked, his voice incredibly weak. "Wh-What happened? Why do my eyes hurt? And why am I go tired? An-"

"Shhhh, shhhh," his aunt soothed, brushing the washcloth across his forehead again. "Everything's going to be fine. You're recovering from a high fever; it'll take awhile to recover completely. Calm down, breath..."

Struggling to follow her instructions, Harry forced himself to slow his breathing, and found some of the waves of panic he'd been feeling dissipate.

"Good job, Harry." Aunt Petunia murmured softly. "Now open wide, you need to take some of the medications the healer left for you."

"Healer?" Harry inquired, his voice still incredibly weak. Nonetheless he left his mouth slowly opened and struggled to make his tired ears hear what she was doing... it sounded like she was pulling corks out of bottles... '_Probably potions, then..._' he thought.

A moment later, he felt a teaspoon being rested on his lower lip and tipped slightly, to pour a thick, syrupy substance that tasted like a cross between orange and lemon juice, into his dry, tired and aching mouth. 

"Come on, Harry. You can do it..." he heard his aunt murmur encouragingly as he felt her gently stroking a hand down his neck, causing him to swallow reflexively. "Good job, Harry... Here's the next one..." 

Once again a spoon was balanced lightly on his bottom lip, angled to allow the contents to pour into his mouth. This potion was relatively tasteless, and its consistency was closer to that of water, rather than syrup.

And again, Aunt Petunia helped him swallow, before moving onto the next potion. "_Good_...next..."

~ * ~

"Have you got everything? Hermione - Ron - Ginny - Fred - George?" Mrs. Weasley asked as she bustled them over to _Flourish and Blotts_' exit. When she received all weary nods in response she smiled, "That'd good. Come on now, dears."

They were just now finishing their back to school shopping. It had taken several hours, so they were glad it was over with. Normally this trip was something they looked forward, but all it served as today was a reminder of Harry's disappearance. 

It was as they were making their way to _The Leaky Cauldron_ that Ginny, who hadn't really spoken once on the whole trip, did so. "Ria!" she called, sending the attention of every member of their group to the young General who was only a short distance away from them.

Turning in response to the redhead's shout, the strawberry-blonde offered a warm smile as she made her way over to them. She made it look so easy, whereas they had to push their way through the packed street, it seemed that the crowd almost unconsciously parted for her. "Good afternoon, everyone. How are you?" she asked pleasantly, her bright blue eyes not missing the weary expressions behind their smiles, nor their bag-laden arms. "Back to school shopping, are you?" 

"Yes," Mrs. Weasley replied, having to raise her voice to be heard over the crowd. "How are you doing?"

"Fine, thank you," the Auror replied, still smiling gently. She glanced at her watch. "Have you had lunch yet?" 

"Well - umm - no," Mrs. Weasley replied, shaking her head, "but we're just heading home now-"

"Would you care to join me for lunch?" The Auror offered. "It's mayhem at the _Cauldron_; at least an hours wait on the Floo's, so your better off just sitting down to lunch for a time, and then heading home."

"Well... I don't..."

"I'd enjoy the company," Ria continued, still smiling, "My treat."

"Please, Mum?" Ginny pleaded, "I'm starving! And we haven't talked to Ria in weeks!"

"Well, actually days, but it does seem like that, doesn't it?" Ria smiled.

As the other children added their encouragement to the arrangement, Mrs. Weasley finally relented. "Well, alright then. Where to?"

~ * ~

The sight that greeted her as she entered her brother's chambers, was just what she needed to see. For indeed, Vivian had been worried about her brother, desperately so... And seeing him awake, even struggling as he was, served to sooth her fears... for the most part. She could tell her aunt had been no less worried then she, it wasn't hard; for the dark circles under the older woman's eyes were just visible to the Auror's sharp eyes, even in the dim lighting.

"Well," she murmured quietly, drawing the pair's attention to her. "This is a pleasant surprise."

"Vivian!" Harry smiled brightly. "You're back!" She thought his voice sounded a bit weak, but wasn't sure, as his happiness seemed to outshine everything else.

The Auror smiled as she made her way over to the bed, conjuring up a chair beside it as she did so. "Yes, I am," she agreed, "How are you feeling, Harry?"

"_Terrible!_" he replied with a sigh.

Now, she could definitely hear the weariness in the younger wizard's voice. "Have you had your medications, yet?" she asked, glancing at her aunt.

Aunt Petunia nodded, but didn't say anything as Harry replied.

"_Yes_, they taste _awful!_" 

Vivian smiled at that, he sounded like a small child. And, annoying as the whining may be to some, she found it touching. "I'm sure most of it did, but, personally, I've always thought _Malacae_ tasted rather pleasant, myself."

Harry frowned slightly, "Which one was that?"

"You can barely taste it, it's almost like water. But there is a hint of peppermint in it, and the barest touch of salt." 

"Peppermint?" the teenager thought about it for a moment, before nodding. "Oh, I remember that one! It made me think of the ocean! And it was easier to breath after that!"

"Yes," Vivian nodded, "That's the one." She then nodded to the tray that was balanced over the wizard's lap. "Would this be brunch, or lunch?"

"Oh... actually, it was supposed to be breakfast," Harry's cheeks reddened a little, made all the more obvious then the unnatural paleness of his skin; which had been caused by the fever. "I've been having a bit of trouble with it..."

The Auror eyed the tray thoughtfully, before nodding. Egg's benedict, rice pudding, fruit salad, toast, milk and orange juice were a bit much for someone in his condition. "Well, just try to finish the fruit and the toast, and the milk would be a good idea to. Then you should get some rest."

"You sound like Madam Pomphrey," the Gryffindor grumbled.

Vivian laughed, "Thank you," she smiled. "That's quite a compliment, considering her repertoire."

"What'd you mean?" Harry asked, confused.

"Poppy Pomphrey is one of the best medi-witch's in Europe."

"She is?"

"Umm-hmm, come on, finish your... breakfast." Vivian encouraged. After a few moments' silence, in which Harry had taken a deep gulp of his milk, she continued. "Just out of curiosity, Harry, why didn't you tell me you'd made Prefect?"

Harry had to noticeably restrain himself from spitting his milk out. After forcing himself to swallow, he looked at her. "What?"

"Prefect." Vivian repeated. "You and Hermione are the new Gryffindor Prefect's."

"We are?" Harry blinked. "I mean... Hermione, no surprise there... but...me?"

"You didn't know, then?" Vivian frowned, and pulled open the drawer of his bedside table, taking out the envelope that held his Hogwarts letter. When she turned it upside down, a glittering badge with a golden lion atop inside a golden frame with a scarlet background fell into her open hand.

~ * ~

"_Aris Cenatonis_?" Mrs. Weasley read the name off the sign in the entranceway they'd just past through off of Diagon Alley's busy streets. "I've never heard of it. Is it new?"

"Relatively," Ria replied as she led them across the entrance hall to a grand staircase. The floor of the hall, as well as the columns and the stairs were all white marble. A dark black carpet swept down the majestic staircase, covering most of it like a regal cape before flowing across the entrance hall to the entryway. The hall itself was relatively bare, with the exception of the staircase and a desk off to the right of it, where a young man in dark black robes was stationed. 

The room was just barely lit by many tiny lights in the dark black ceiling up above, which made the atmosphere what one would find on an exceptionally clear night. There was also a torch on each side of the paintings that covered the walls, depicting ancient battle scenes. None of the dark paintings were magical, which only seemed to add to their charm. The only other light came from a candle at the young man's desk. He'd looked up when they'd first entered, before turning his attention back to whatever book he was reading.

Hermione, Mrs. Weasley and her children followed the Auror up the regal staircase until they came to the first level, which allowed them to go up two different staircases. Ria led them up the one on the right.

"What's up there?" Fred asked her, pointing to the other staircase as they climbed the right staircase.

"The pub," she replied evenly, as they reached the top of the stairs, where pretty witch in her mid-twenties awaited them. 

"Table for seven, General?" The hostess inquired when the party reached her.

Ria nodded, and then they entered the restaurant itself. 

The dining area was as dark as its' entrance, the soft black carpet that covered the floor and the dark wood of the chairs and tables making it seem darker. The cushions of the chairs, they could see were covered with red leather, and the small lanterns that stood in the center of every table were intricately cut glass encasing the magical flame inside, resting atop a golden base and frame.

Overall, the restaurant seemed much darker then most of the restaurant's the wizard's had set foot in before, but not dark like the _Leaky Cauldron_, which was only dark because it was old, with few windows and it wasn't well lit. No, _Aris Cenatonis_ seemed dark because in a way that was intended the place. It was mysterious, and exciting:_ dangerous_...

As one might expect, the teenagers _loved_ it.

"This place is _great!_" Fred and George hissed at the same time, staring around them in awe as they seated themselves around one of the corner tables.

Ria chuckled, offering a small smile as she accepted a menu from the hostess, and replying once the witch was on her way back to the entrance. "It is rather nice, isn't it?"

"When was it built?" Mrs. Weasley inquired, clearly just as interested as her children.

"Three years ago," the Auror replied.

"Three _years_?" George demanded.

"How did a place like this remain a secret for _three years?_" Fred agreed.

Ria laughed, shaking her head. "It's not a secret, not really. But it is a bit exclusive."

"Oh," Mrs. Weasley frowned, "a club of some sort?"

"Something like that," Ria nodded, opening her menu, continuing as she scanned it. "It's for our Sector in the Ministry. Vivian bought the lot four years ago, had this place built, and found the people to run it."

"Another perk of being an Auror?" Hermione summarized as she too opened her menu.

The Auror nodded, "Yes... Well, at least an Auror in Vivian's Sector."

"Good afternoon," Everyone looked up, and the witch who stood there in a long red dress with a flowing black cloak over it smiled. "I'm Clara, and I'll be your server today. Would you like anything to drink?"

"A glass of _Dulcis_, on the rocks, please," Ria replied.

"The same, please," Mrs. Weasley requested.

"A Butterbeer, please?" Ginny requested.

When the waitress nodded a confirmation, Hermione smiled, "I'll have the same, please."

"Me too," Ron agreed.

"Same," both Fred and George decided.

"Alright," Clara nodded, "That will be two Dulcis, on the rocks, and five Butterbeer?"

Ria nodded.

"Have you decided what you want to order?" the waitress asked, then smiled when she received many frantic shaking heads in response. "I'll be back in a moment, then." 

~ * ~

There were many things the Dark Lord could do to intimidate someone. And many more if magic was included. But even without that extraordinary asset, there were few that could meet his gaze unflinchingly...

His followers were no exception. The only difference was the fact that they'd had time to become used to that fear. For they dealt with it almost every day.

If asked, however, you might be surprised at what frightened the vast majority of the Death Eaters the most. Which was, of course, what he was doing now.

Thinking.

The room was tense with a heavy quietus hanging in the air. Their lord had summoned them, them being the members of the Inner Circle, here well over an hour ago. Therefore, they'd been there for nearly an hour; for they all knew the unhappy consequences of keeping the Dark Lord waiting. And he didn't ignore tardiness any more then he ignore disobedience, for that's what it was. When the mark burned, they were to come to their Lord's side _immediately_, no matter what. Of course, in these times excuses were allowed for short waiting periods, as they didn't want Aurors following them here. But, the Dark Lord was only so patient, so it was _never_ a good idea to push your luck...

Therefore, they'd all been standing there for nearly an hour. Waiting...

Finally, Lord Voldemort chose to speak. "Severus," he called in a low hiss that echoed through the dark throne room. For that was what this shadowed, ominous cavern located somewhere beneath the Riddle Manor truly was.

A tall figure immediately detached itself from the group, stepping forward and offering a deep bow. "My lord?"

"I am sure you are aware of our interesting new development?" The Dark Lord murmured, while stroking his dear pet, Nagini's dark head. 

"I am, my lord."

"And what, pray tell, does our dear Headmaster know?"

"Very little, my lord." Snape replied after a moment's hesitation. "He believes that because of how long the spell was in place, some of its effects still linger, and may only be treated as ordinary amnesia..."

"So he expects them to return with time, does he?"

The Potions Master nodded, "So he has said many times, my lord."

"And has he met with... young Miss Potter, yet?"

Snape's frown was hidden by his mask, "No, my lord. He does not know where to find her, or how to contact her..."

This actually seemed to take the Dark Lord by surprise. "He doesn't...?"

"No," Snape shook his head, "my lord. He does not."

"...Interesting." After a moment, Voldemort chuckled evilly. "Yes, very interesting... Very well, Severus. You may go. Keep me informed."

"Of course," the Head of Slytherin House bowed deeply, "my lord."

"All of the other members of the Second Circle are dismissed as well." Voldemort ordered, causing nearly four fifths of the Death Eater's present to break away, bowing, and make their way toward the door.

Snape took his time in leaving, but he couldn't stay behind too long. For that could have aroused the Dark Lord's suspicion and that was something neither Snape himself, nor the forces of the Light could afford.

~ * ~

"Your meal will be here shortly," Clara assured them after she finished taking down their orders.

"Thank you," Ria nodded. After the waitress had left, the Auror smiled at her companions. "So, have you found everything you need?"

Mrs. Weasley nodded, "Yes, there actually wasn't that much they needed for this year."

"Oh?"

"Yeah," Hermione nodded, "They only need two new books."

"And you needed...?" the Auror inquired.

"Four," the younger witch replied. "I'm taking Arithmancy and Ancient Runes, too."

"So you needed to buy _Rhombi Mathematica _by Natalie Nundinari, for Arithmancy and _Litterara Veterrimus_ by Lawrence K. Gnaritas, for Ancient Runes?"

"Yes," Hermione nodded.

"Hmm," Ria returned the nod, "Good books, if I recall correctly. Gnaritas is a little dry, but he's worth the read, and Nundinari always finds some way to make her novel's interesting." After offering a gentle smile to the younger witch, she continued. "And what other books do you need?"

"_The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 5_, by Miranda Goshawk and _Defensive Magical Theory_, by Wilbert Slinkhard," Ron replied.

This caused a frown to grace the Auror's features. "_Slinkhard?_ _Really?_ Dear me," she shook her head. "Then Umbridge must have been accepted as DADA..."

"Who?" Hermione asked.

"Dolores Umbridge," Ria replied, "The Minister's Undersecretary... Only she could pick something _that_ dull, not to mention inaccurate..."

"Why would the Minister's Undersecretary be the new DADA?" Fred - or maybe it was George, but she was pretty sure it was Fred - asked. 

The General sighed, "The Minister managed to pass an Educational Degree that gave him the right to appoint a someone as Professor of any position in Hogwarts, should the Headmaster himself not be able to fill it."

"Dumbledore was having a hard time of that," Mrs. Weasley nodded.

"Yes, well," Ria sighed (again), "It's not overly hard to understand why, with what's happened to the last four... but it isn't overly reassuring."

Mrs. Weasley frowned, "Why do you say that?" 

"Your orders," a voice came from beside the table, drawing their attention to their waitress, Clara.

"Thank you," Ria replied with a nod as the waitress set her meal before her.

After she had done the same for the others, Clara bowed slightly to the General, "Will that be all, General?"

"Just another round of drinks, please," Ria replied, "and put the check on my tab."

"Of course, ma'am."

~ * ~

Petunia Evans sighed as she rose from her position beside her nephew's bed. Harry had fallen asleep a few minutes before, not long after his sister had departed. And Petunia knew that now was as good as time as any to write the letter Vivian had asked her to. Moving quietly, so as not to disturb Harry's rest, she moved over to the desk that was located a short distance from the bed, and took out a piece of parchment.

After struggling for a few minutes to ensure that the parchment remained flat, she carefully opened one of the side drawers and removed one of the quills inside. She then uncorked the bottle of dark black ink, and dipped the quill in.

Then she began writing...

__

Dear Professor Dumbledore,

~ * ~

"Good afternoon, everyone," Vivian smiled as she stepped out of the fireplace and into the Headmaster's office. "I trust you all are well?"

A few muttered responses and several nods answered her before everyone took their seats.

"First of all," Dumbledore began with a sigh, "I would like to apologize to you, Vivian-"

"That won't be necessary," Vivian cut him off. "It's only natural that you suspected me of folly at some point, and I was honestly surprised you hadn't done so sooner." Of course, truth be told, she really didn't want to hear him apologize for suspecting her of being Harry's kidnapper, when in all actually, she really _was_, essentially. 

This caused Ron to frown, "_Natural?_ Why would it be natural?"

The Auror shrugged, "I'm the outsider here. And my job often requires that I withhold more then I give, so it's only natural that you begin to suspect me of _something_..."

"Hmm, I suppose," the Headmaster sighed, "Nonetheless-"

He was cut off by a tapping noise from the window. When everyone turned to look, they saw that an owl was perched on the ledge, a letter in hand.

Ron was the first one to reach the window, so he was the one who relieved the avian creature of its burden. Glancing at the back, he handed it to the Headmaster. "It's for you, Professor."

"Thank you, Mr. Weasley." Dumbledore replied, before opening the envelope and unfolding the letter it held. He quickly scanned the letter, and a frown quickly replaced the surprised look in his eyes. After a moment, he held the letter out to Vivian, "Would you care to read it, my dear?"

Vivian raised an eyebrow (all for show), but took it nonetheless. Then she began to read:

__

Dear Professor Dumbledore, 

I understand you have been quite concerned for my nephew's whereabouts, and while I am quite glad that so many people care for him, I must ask that stop pursuing the matter of his location. Harry himself has been getting along quite well here... with the exception of his visions and the incident last night...

Harry will be attending Hogwarts this year, as I'm sure you already know from the responses he sent to the letters he received on his birthday. However, he will not say anything, to anyone, regarding where we have been this summer. Indeed, he will not be able to. I have our host's assurance of that. Our host happens to be an expert of what I believe you refer to as Ancient Magic, and has already found the necessary spell to ensure that he cannot be forced to talk. Nothing but the caster's release will break the spell. Truth serum, torture of any sort, be it physical or mental, will only cause him pain, and will do nothing to help you discover our whereabouts.

I understand that this will not please you, indeed how could it? But it is truly for the boy's own good... I had not been overly happy in the last few years of my marriage, and indeed, with the news of The Dark Lord's return, I did not feel overly safe at my former husband's residence. Therefore I was quite glad to take our host's offer on moving in with them.

For reasons I myself cannot divulge, this move had to be kept secret. I can tell you no more on the matter, other then Harry, our host and myself did not want to cause you, or any of Harry's friends, worry or pain. 

Our host has informed us that three 'Aurors' have been working on this case. Under our host's instruction Harry will meet those three in Muggle London, on Platform 1 of King's Cross, on August 31st. He will be expected to return by the same route on holidays.

I hope you are well...

Sincerely,

****

Petunia Evans

"What does she mean, 'stop looking for him'?" Ron demanded, his ears reddening.

"P.S.," Vivian continued, forestalling any agreement with the redhead's statement.

__

Please do not be too hard on Harry. He, more then any of us, did not want to cause any grief on his part... Our host has also requested that I tell you this:

Do not try and break the spell that keeps Harry from betraying them. It will not allow him to divulge information, consciously or unconsciously, in any way, shape or form. He can not say it, he can not write it, and even spells to look into his mind will be met with a harsh barrier.

However, that is not why I must tell you this... Harry has agreed to the condition, if only because he would not be able to return to Hogwarts otherwise. Therefore, should you find a way to break through the spell... it has a natural defensive mechanism: What I believe you call 'Obliviation'. Should you somehow force Harry to begin to tell you **anything**, he will forget **everything**. And, as I understand, there is currently no way to reverse this condition.

~ * ~

Sleep is truly a wondrous thing: a definite key to good health, and certainly to healing. And it is our escape. It gives the body a chance to renew its energy, revitalize itself, and heal, while we remain peacefully oblivious to the world around us.

Sometimes, however, that peaceful oblivion does not come. And, indeed, Harry Potter had not seen it in a long time...

However, unlike many previous nights, his mind was not torturing him with horrible memories or painful visions, no... Instead he was remembering things he shouldn't be able to remember. Things, most people certainly would've forgotten, as they didn't really seem as important as you might consider them later on in life, when they happened. 

If the Boy-Who-Lived himself were actually conscious, he might've remembered his sister telling him: _"When one is discontent, the mind often resorts to holding on to happy memories…"_. As it was, he was only floating along deep inside his mind.

__

"Hurry up, boy!" Vernon Dursley growled, as he half dragged his five-year-old nephew down the sidewalk, while balancing his son on his hip.

"Sorry, Uncle Vernon," Harry muttered quietly, wishing his uncle would release the tight - not bruising, but still relatively painful - grip he held on his small shoulder. He really didn't know why he thought this trip might be any different from any other trip he'd been on with his relatives. Mrs. Figg, who usually watched him when the Dursley's went out, was having company, and therefore was unable to today. His Uncle had wanted to leave him at home, in the cupboard, but Aunt Petunia had pointed out that the neighbors might become suspicious if they saw them leave without the boy. After all, they usually dropped him off at Figg's house a few streets away...

"Ice cream! Ice cream!" Five-year-old Dudley Dursley shrieked, reaching for the ice cream parlor a short distance away. "Daddy, want ice cream!"

Well, of course, that inevitably meant that they ended up inside the parlor. Harry, following his uncle's sharp orders, was sitting in one of the corner tables, a good distance from his relatives, and watching as his cousin stuffed his face in a huge sundae; three scoops of chocolate ice cream with chocolate sprinkles, Oreo crumbs, hot fudge and whip cream. He, of course, had nothing.

"Why are you sitting here all alone?"

Harry blinked and looked across the table where a girl who looked vaguely familiar was seated, smiling at him. He didn't know **why** she seemed so familiar, it might've been because her long hair was the same shade his was, and didn't look like it really behave much either, and her large eyes matched his as well. But she didn't have glasses. Regardless of all this, the simple fact remained that Harry himself didn't know any girls. He might when he started school in the autumn, but he still probably wouldn't know her. She looked to be around the age of eleven, so she wouldn't be anywhere near the kinder gardeners. 

"Hello...? Anyone home?"

"Huh - wha...?" Harry blinked, then blushed as he realized he'd been staring. "H-Hi, I'm Harry."

"I'm Vivian," the girl replied smoothly. "Why are you sitting here all alone?" she asked again, before nodding toward the Dursleys, "Shouldn't you be with your parents?"

"They're not my parents..." Harry replied, sighing slightly. "My mum and dad died in a car crash when I was just a baby." He hadn't noticed the frown that graced her features at that. "That's my aunt and uncle, and my cousin, Dudley."

"Why aren't you sitting with them?"

"Because...they don't want me to."

"They don't... Would you like some ice cream?" Vivian asked, evidently deciding to steer clear of the topic, as it appeared to distress him.

"I - uh, no, thank you... I wouldn't want to impose..." Harry finished, glancing over towards his relatives again.

"Oh, it isn't a problem." Vivian assured him, "I don't like to eat alone! What flavor would you like?"

"Umm... I don't know..." Harry replied hesitantly, "I've never tried one before..."

"Well, I'm getting a vanilla-chocolate-twist. Would you like one of those? They're very good."

"Oh - umm... Sure... Thank you."

Had he been conscious, Harry might've wondered why he hadn't remembered that incident until now. Then again, he probably would've realized it was the spell at work again... But, as it was, he was just going with the flow...

__

Ten-year-old Harry Potter sat by himself in the corner of the classroom. Watching as his classmates played and gossiped. This wasn't unusual. His cousin Dudley had made sure he had no friends...

Indeed, all of the other children were afraid of becoming targets of Dudley's little gang, who were now on their way over to him...

Therefore, he was more then a little relieved when the substitute teacher they'd been waiting for arrived.

"Sorry I'm late," she murmured, her voice bearing a light, barely noticeable, French accent. 

If he'd been a little older, he undoubtedly would've though that she was quite pretty. With long raven black hair flowing down to her waist, and pale, refined features highlighting emerald green eyes that were framed in long dark lashes. But of course, Harry was ten years old, and he was still at the stage where he though girls might have 'cooties'... 

He did notice to things though. 

One: she seemed a lot nicer then any of the other teachers he'd had.

Two: she also seemed a lot younger then any of the other teachers he'd had...

"My name's Vivian Potier, and I'll be substituting for Mrs. Smith today." The lady continued. "Now, how are all of you this morning?"

"Good, Mrs. Potier." The class replied in monotone.

Potier laughed, "It's Miss, thank you." She smiled as she set her small black purse on the desk and picked up one of the papers on the desk. "Now, I'm going to start role-call, please raise your hand and say here when I call you... Amanda Ackland?"

Harry started to fade the classroom out, as had long been his custom. It was much more comfortable sleeping at his desk rather than in the cupboard. So he usually fell asleep for a few hours, if only because it was the only time he **could** sleep. Of course, it ensured that the teachers didn't like him, but...

"Here! Here!" he was brought back to the classroom when his cousin started bouncing up and down in his seat, his hand raised, causing a noticeable strain on his poor chair. 

"Thank you, Mr. Dursley," Miss Potier nodded. "Elizabeth Dawn?"

He didn't rally **want** to ignore his teachers, but he couldn't help it! He was always so tired! And the few times he'd asked to be sent to the nurse got him sent home due to sheer exhaustion, and **that** didn't help! He still passed all of the tests and did all of the homework, but the teachers still didn't like him, understandably so... After all, he fell asleep in class, and was blamed for all of the problems his cousin caused.

"Alright there, Mr. Potter?" a kind voice inquired pleasantly.

He blinked, snapping out of his thoughts, to stare up at the substitute teacher, "Y-yes, ma'am. Sorry, ma'am."

"Not a problem," Miss Potier shook her head, "it's early..." Then she looked up and her eyes landed on a blonde girl with brown eyes, who was seated a short distance from him. "Zoë Wilson, I presume?"

"Yes, ma'am," the blonde replied. Harry knew she was the last person on the list, alphabetically right after him.

"Everyone's here, then!" Miss Potier smiled, walking down the aisle to the front of the classroom and taking a seat on the teacher's desk. "I'm afraid that Mrs. Smith's absence was a bit unexpected, so I don't have a class plan to follow. However," she smiled, "that's no problem, I'll just make one up. But, for this morning, I thought we might go for a walk in the park. How does that sound?"

"Yeah!" Almost everyone in the class agreed loudly, knowing she was referring to the park a block away from the school entrance. Dudley was one of the few people who didn't appear the least bit pleased with this prospect, and Harry knew that was because Dudley Dursley **hated** any and all forms of exercise, unless it involved punching someone, and he couldn't do that when he was with the teacher.

"Wonderful," Miss Potier smiled. "Yes, Miss Davies, what is it?"

"Umm, Miss Potier," the brunette began, stumbling over the foreign name for a moment, before continuing. "When is Mrs. Smith going to be back?"

"You may call me Miss P., if you like," the lady offered, "And, we're not quite sure when Mrs. Smith will be back, but I'm going to be teaching this class for the next week, so hopefully she'll be back by then. She's visiting family in Ireland."

"Oh... Thank you, Miss. P.," the Davies girl smiled.

Miss Potier nodded, "Pleasure, any other questions." When no one raised their hand, she continued, "Alright then, everyone get your homework out, put it on your desk, please, and line up outside the door."

Everyone in the class quickly rose, chattering excitedly as they followed her instructions. 

Harry sighed as he did the same, placing his carefully completed homework on his desk and rising to his feet, to make his way to the front of the class, well behind everyone else. Unfortunately, he made the mistake of passing his cousin's gang, which, of course, earned him a shove from Dudley, sending him flying into a bunch of desks before falling onto the cold, hard floor. 

As usual, Dudley and his friend's found this incredibly amusing, and started laughing as they made their way to the door. However, this time, unlike all the previous times, they were halted.

"Mr. Dursley, Mr. Polkiss, Mr. Martin and Mr. Gibson!" gone was all of the warmth that had been present in the teacher's tone since her arrival, her voice seemed cold enough to make ice, and it certainly froze them in place. Her lovely face was almost expressionless, with the exception of how firmly she had her lips pressed together, evidently to stop herself from yelling at them, while her vivid eyes were ablaze with fury.

"Y-yes, Miss P.?" Dudley finally managed to ask, albeit nervously.

"**That** was **completely unacceptable**!" she replied after a moment's tense silence. 

"Wh-what w-was, ma'am?"

"Your cousin did absolutely nothing to deserve that." Was the teacher's reply. "Apologize," her eyes narrowed when he opened his mouth to object, "**immediately**."

Deciding that he probably shouldn't argue with the teacher (a wise move for the pig in a wig, as Harry thought of him), Dudley stomped over to his cousin, and offered a muttered, "Sorry."

However, when he turned to make his way towards the door, the teachers cold voice froze both him and his friends, who had been inching towards the door, in place again.

"Ah-ah-ah," Potier her head. "Help him up." She instructed.

Pouting at this indignity, Dudley spun around again, stomped over to his cousin again, and pulled him roughly to his feet.

This time, Dudley was smart enough to wait for further instruction.

"Come here please, Harry." Harry hesitantly did so as she continued. "Now, Mr. Dursley, fix the desks. On your own." She added, when his friend's moved to help him.

It took Dudley almost two minutes to do so, and he was sweating heavily by the time he'd finished.

"Now, collect the homework, and put it on my desk. I expect all of it to be there, as I know everyone took theirs out today." Miss Potier informed him. "You are to do this on your own. When you are done, you and your friends may join us. All four of you will also stay after class today, for detention. We will be waiting for you in the entrance hall."

Had he been conscious, he certainly would've wondered _why_ he didn't remember 'Miss Potier', as the week she substituted was, up to that point, undoubtedly the best week of his life. She'd always been nice to him, helped him with his homework, and she never let Dudley pick on him. Not that he didn't try, in fact, Dudley and his gang had detention every night that week, and one on Saturday, which was generally only a punishment for severe misdemeanors, but the school board, for some reason, never even thought to ask what they'd done to deserve being there. 

Of course, Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon were far from pleased with all of that, but they never thought to punish Harry for it, because they thought Harry was being punished along with Dudley and his friends...

__

It was Christmas Eve, and six-year-old Harry Potter was outside in the garden, crying. It was very cold out, but he didn't really notice, he was far too distressed for that. He'd never really known that Christmas was supposed to be a special time for everyone, he'd always just assumed it was another time for Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon to shower Dudley with presents... 

But that was before he'd started school. And, in school, he'd learned otherwise.

He was supposed to get presents too! But he never would... His aunt and uncle **hated** him, he had no idea why... They just... did.

And that hurt more then he ever thought possible.

"Something wrong?"

Harry's head snapped up, and he blinked repeatedly as he looked up at the figure before him. 

It was a girl with long dark hair and bright green eyes that were watching him with concern. The girl was very pretty, not that he was old enough to really notice, but he did notice that she seemed concerned for him... something he **really** wasn't used to.

Suddenly realizing that he'd been staring, he stuttered, "N-no, th-thank you..."

"Why are you crying?"

"I'm n-not c-crying." He forced the reply, shivering as he suddenly realized how cold he was. 

He gave a start when the cold disappeared, and looked back up at the girl, who offered him a slight smile. He noticed that she was no longer wearing the coat she'd had on over the long white dress she now wore. Instead, that coat was what was encasing him in a protective, gentle and quite pleasant warmth. He was about the protest, when she offered a small, white-gloved hand to him.

When he hesitantly took the proffered hand, he was pulled to his feet.

"Would you like to take a walk with me?" the girl offered, still smiling.

"I-I don't want to impose..." Harry replied automatically. It was the reply his aunt and uncle had ingrained in him for as long as he could remember. They didn't like it when he talked to strangers.

"Oh, it isn't a problem," the girl replied. "I don't like to walk alone. Shall we?" she smiled, gesturing to the gate.

"Al-alright," Harry replied, after a moment's hesitation.

The girl's smile widened and she led the way over to the gate, brushing the snow that coated the handle aside, she opened the gate and waved him through.

Harry frowned, and shook his head. "Ladies first..."

She laughed, "Why thank you," she replied, stepping through and to the side, to hold the gate open for him. 

"Thanks," Harry murmured softly as stepped through still clutching the dark green coat she'd wrapped around his shoulders. 

"You can put it on, if you like."

Harry blinked, but nonetheless did so. It was, undoubtedly, the finest garment he'd ever worn: soft, smooth white silk lining the inside, fine, soft black leather on the outside. 

"This is a lovely neighborhood," she offered as they made their way down the street.

Harry blinked, and looked up. Yes, he suddenly realized, looking around in wonder, Privet Drive did look rather nice during the holidays. While it was undoubtedly the most boring street you could ever find at any other time throughout the year, it was quite lovely when snow covered the ground and tiny lights glittered from their arrangements in the trees. 

"I'm Vivian, by the way. What's your name?"

"Harry..." he replied softly, still staring around him in wonder.

"It's nice to meet you, Harry."

Once again, had he been conscious, Harry would wonder why he hadn't remembered that evening. He certainly remembered the next morning, when his uncle had told him to go get the mail, and he'd found a package addressed to himself in the small pile. He hadn't opened it 'till later that evening, when the Dursleys were asleep. He'd opened his very first Christmas present inside his tiny cupboard. It was a small, locket with an elegantly scrolled **_P_** embossed on the golden front. He still wore that locket today. He'd never taken it off. Inside was a picture of his mother and father.

He could remember thinking that it must've been from his parent's then. That it was a sign. A sign that they really did love him... That someone did... 

~ * ~

The stunned silence that followed Vivian's reading of the letter hung there fore several minutes. For one thing, this was not the Petunia Dursley, Harry's Muggle Aunt, that those who had 'met' her knew... for another... Well, the letter's contents were in themselves disturbing...

Finally, Vivian decided to break the silence. "Well," she sighed, "that was... interesting."

"Why would Harry agree to that?" Ron demanded slowly, his eyes still wide.

"Presumably," Vivian shrugged, "because he doesn't want to betray his... host. But he still want's to come back here..."

"What does that have to do with anything? And why would he care about the person who kidnapped him?"

"Perhaps because he wasn't kidnapped?" Vivian offered, and continued before he could respond. "The spell makes sense in that regard. It protects both Harry, and his host."

"How does it protect Harry?" Ginny asked. "And... Who does he need to be protected from, if not his k...host?"

Vivian didn't reply, choosing instead to carefully refold the letter and hand it back to the headmaster, waiting for them to answer that question themselves. It didn't take long... for Hermione, at least.

"From us..." the Gryffindor genius gasped, eyes wide.

"Us?" Ron demanded, "What'd you mean: _us?_"

The Auror General chose that moment to cut in. "I've seen it before..." she sighed, "and it's not like this case doesn't fit the profile..."

"What...?"

"Due to the stress of the kidnapping, it's not uncommon for the victim and their friend's and family to feel... a bit uncomfortable around each other after the initial relief wears off. Unfortunately, in far too many cases, they will misplace whatever guilt and/or anger they are feeling... I've seen many friendships die that way." The Auror sighed. "Mr. Potter's case is only worse, because you _know_ he knows something that he's not telling you, and you of course believe that he is truly your friend then he should be able to trust you with anything. That he shouldn't keep secret's from you. In reality, a secret is something the person who knows it can not tell for some reason or another, it is a little known fact that may cause any number of terrible things by becoming known..."

"But friends _shouldn't_ keep secrets from one another!" Ron protested.

"Why?" 

The redhead blinked, "What...?"

"_Why?_" Vivian repeated. "There are something's that some people just aren't capable of handling or even comprehending. There are times when a person's very life may depend on a secret. What do you think the _Fidelius Charm_ is?" she continued before he could respond. "Secrets aren't always held out of lack of trust, my friend. More often then not, they're made and held to protect someone. And holding usually won't hurt people who they otherwise don't affect. It is those people themselves who cause the pain."

"But..." Ron shook his head, obviously struggling for an appropriate response. "Friends should _trust_ each other."

"Yes," the Auror nodded, her voice soft, "they should. But that trust goes both ways. Are you really being a good friend if you force your own friend to break his word? To endanger another friend? Are you being a good friend by giving him grief when he refuses to do so?"

Nearly a whole minute of absolute silence followed these words, as everyone present recognized the disturbing truth in them. This time, it was Professor McGonagall who broke the heavy silence.

"So what do you propose we do?" the Head of Gryffindor house inquired, meeting the younger witch's eyes. "Pretend this never happened?"

"Of course not," Vivian shook her head, "but you shouldn't give him grief over something that you're not even entriely sure was his fault. Something that, in all likely, _wasn't_ his fault...As to how we should move forward with these instructions," she continued with a sigh, nodding to the carefully folded letter that rested on the Headmaster's desk. "I do believe it would be best if we followed them. Arabella, Alastor and I will meet Mr. Potter in Central Park, and escort him to the Ministry."

"_What...?_" Ron blinked, "Why the Ministry?"

"To my sector," Vivian continued, "as standard protocol requires. He will be given a complete check up with a healer, and we take whatever testimony he is willing and able to give. On September first, we will take him to Platform nine-and-three-quarters."

Professor Dumbledore nodded, "A well conceived plan. And what of Mr. Potter's safety during the school year?"

"I would like to have an Auror watching Mr. Potter at all times," Vivian replied readily, "as a guard."

"But..." Professor McGonagall frowned, "won't that disrupt classes?" she asked, looking back and fourth between her Headmaster and the Auror General.

"No," Vivian shook her head, smiling slightly. "You won't even notice they're there - unless Harry's threatened - I can promise that." 

~ * ~

"Masks," the Dark Lord ordered.

Obediently, the members of the Trusted Inner Circle removed their Death Eater mask's slipping them into one of the pockets that lined the inside of their dark robes. While the masks were needed to protect the identities of Voldemort's followers from traitors, that was not something he had to worry about with this Circle. For, in truth, they _couldn't_ betray him.

"Lucius." 

In answering to the Dark Lord's summons, the tall blonde stepped out of the crowd gracefully, and bowed (ever so slightly) with no less grace. "Yes, my lord?" the regal servant inquired.

"Have you learned anything new of the young General?" Lord Voldemort inquired of one of his most trusted servants.

"I regret to say I have not, my lord," the Lord of the Malfoy Manor replied quietly, his tone subdued, as was appropriate for reporting a failure, but he did not bow his head as most Death Eater's would.

Surprisingly though, the Dark Lord himself was not disturbed by neither the lack of total humbleness, nor the mention of failure. "That is not surprising."

While Lucius Malfoy wore no mask to conceal his emotions, his expression betrayed nothing. "My lord?"

Ignoring the inquiry, Voldemort thought for a moment, before issuing his command. "Continue to watch the young protege, but do not harm her, no matter how tempting an opportunity is presented. If the chance presents itself, bring her to me. But only if the chance is truly there. I want her alive, and preferably unharmed..."

As bewildered as he humanly _must_ have felt, the blonde's features did not betray him before, during or after he bowed. "Of course, my lord."

Lord Voldemort nodded, "You may go..."

~ * ~

It was a quiet and weary room after Vivian's departure. The confidence she'd radiated having departed with her, leaving all of them alone with their doubts.

"Shouldn't we be happy?" Ginny asked after several minutes of silence, looking around. "I mean, Harry's alright, isn't he? And he's coming back!"

Many of the others nodded, but the dark atmosphere remained.

"We would've done it, too." Professor McGonagall murmured quietly, almost to herself.

"What?" Ginny asked.

"Blamed him..." her House Head replied quietly, blinking back tears. "H-hurt him..."

Dumbledore nodded in agreement, his eyes sad. "It is in human nature, after all." He thought a moment, before continuing, "Well then, I propose we each swear to do no such thing." As he said this, he opened one of his desk drawers, and pulled out a small golden box, placing it gently on the surface of his desk before carefully flipping the lid open. As the lid fell back, pale white white-gold light rose from inside the box, before slowly taking the form of a ball of light. 

"A _fidem_ sphere?" Remus murmured, staring at it in astonishment, much like many of the others. Although the younger generation obviously had no idea of what it was. "How in Merlin's name did you get one of those?"

"Oh, I've been saving it," the Headmaster replied quietly, before turning his eyes to the orb and continuing in a much more serious tone. "I, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, initiate this _fidem_ sphere with a solemn oath to do Mr. Harry James Potter no intentional harm, be it emotional or otherwise, in regard to these recent event, so long as it is in my power..."

The ball released a burst of light, and when it had faded, Dumbledore himself was glowing, faintly, with that same light. When he turned his twinkling eyes to them, Professor McGonagall stepped forward.

"I, Minerva McGonagall hereby second the oath; in all content."

As Professor Flitwick stepped forward, Ron leaned over toward Hermione, "What's going on?" he whispered.

"It's a _fidem_ sphere," the brunette whispered back. "It's one way of giving your word as a wizard, and it doesn't let you break it... not easily, anyway."

"What'd you mean?"

"Well, from what I've read on it, it'll let you know when your coming close to breaking your word... and if you actually _do_ break your word... well..." Hermione winced. "It's bad luck... on level with breaking a magic mirror..."

"Oh..." Ron winced, as well.

However, when it came time for there generation to step forward, they weren't anywhere near as reluctant as Snape, who'd taken a rather long time to complete his oath... In the end, no one held back...

Therefore, now the question was... would they be pleased with the results of this pledge... and would they be able to keep it?

~ * ~

__

Almost 1 month later... (August 30th)

It had taken the Boy-Who-Lived quite a bit of time to recover from the incident earlier on in the month... Nonetheless, recover he had. He was currently in his room... or, actually, his _rooms_... packing his trunk.

"Would you like any help?"

Harry didn't bother turning as he placed the last of his schoolbooks in the trunk. "No thank you, Vivian, I'm fine."

"I did not inquire after your health, brother dear," Vivian replied, her tone indicating her amusement as she came up alongside him. "I simply asked if you would like any help packing."

"No," Harry sighed, shaking his head, "thank you... I'm finished anyway." He noted, nodding to the trunk.

"Ah... Very well then," Vivian nodded, waving her wand to close the lid and send it out into the hallway. When Harry turned to follow it, her hand on his shoulder halted him. "Harry..."

"What?" he asked, or more precisely; snapped, his nerves and weariness leaking through. It had been a hard month, his recovery. And he still wasn't fully recovered; he still suffered from the occasional light-headedness, dizziness, and of course; extreme fatigue. As the dark circles under his eyes could attest to, he was _always_ tired nowadays. 

"Don't."

"Don't _what?_" the young wizard demanded, too tired to try and figure it out for himself. His recovery hadn't been helped by his 'visions'... Voldemort had been rather moody the entire month... And Harry had to wonder if he himself was catching it...]

"Don't block me out, _please..._" 

It wasn't really the words, but more the way she said them that made the Boy-Who-Lived stop and turn to face his older sibling. He'd been with her for the entire summer... and he'd never heard her beg... never thought he'd see it... but that was what that sentence had truly been...

She didn't even try to hide it. It was now that he noticed his sister. He hadn't given it much thought before, but this had to have been a hard month, a hard _summer_, for Vivian... and it showed.

The General's usually immaculate hair was unusually ruffled, her skin was paler then usual, her clothing, like her hair, not quite as refined as it should be... But it was her eyes that caught and held him. Eyes so much like his own; their mother's eyes... Deep, endless pools of irradiant emeralds... but they were dark now. Dark with worry, with exhaustion... and fear...

"I waited so long, Harry," Vivian continued quietly. "So _long_... For fifteen years I watched you all, but I could never go forward. Never truly help you. Never speak to you. Only watch, and listen. And shield you where I could..." she held his weary gaze with her own. "Don't make me go back to that shadows, Harry. Let me in, let me stay." Her pleas were enhanced by a trembling touch to his cheek. "Let me help..."

Harry nodded mutely, watching in horrified fascination as a single tear slipped down one of her pale cheeks.

After a moment, Vivian blinked forced a laugh, withdrawing her hand to brush the tear aside. "I'm sorry..." she muttered quietly, "I'm just a bit tired..." the Auror quickly pulled herself together, and continued before he could comment. "You understand how this is going to work?"

The teen didn't reply immediately, but decide after several moment's of silence, that it could be allowed to wait, and nodded. "Yes, I'll take the Portkey to the suite in the Hilton Islington, go down to the lobby and wait for the limo. Then take the limo to King's Cross."

"Right..." Vivian nodded, smiling slightly. "Don't worry, Harry. You'll do fine."

"It's just..." the young wizard sighed, shaking his head. "I don't want to risk your being hurt... and I'm a little worried about what they're going to say...I didn't want to worry them."

"I know... I know..." the General replied softly, taking him into a gentle embrace. "Shh..." she soothed, rubbing comforting circles on his back. "They missed you..."

"I know," Harry choked quietly, shaking his head slightly. This was, of course, one of the things he'd miss. He could still remember how good it had felt to be wrapped in Mrs. Weasley's comforting, motherly embrace at the end of Fourth Year... It had been _wonderful_, but it wasn't the same as this... and he knew, he didn't know how, he just knew his mother's would be quite different as well... And now he had to leave his big sister's comfort behind as well...

__

End of Chapter 12.

Translations:

Consanguina - related by blood 

Stataria - stable 

Deflagro - to cease burning/abate/cool

Malacae - a calm at sea

Paean - the healer, a surname of Apollo

Relaxare - to ease/lighten/ relax 

Rhombi - a magician's circle 

Mathematica - mathematical 

Litterara - of reading and writing

Veterrimus - the ancients 

Dulcis - sweet water

Gnaritas -knowledge

Nundinari - great numbers

Fidem - to pledge one's word 

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Response to Reviewers

Jaded*Secrets - Hi!  
  
LOL, ok, thanks. ^_^*

*Shrugs* Yeah... I guess it is... And it's not that hard, so I don't see why most authors don't try responding to their reviewers. I mean, we ask for them, shouldn't we respond to them?

Oh! Guess what! I just found out last Saturday; I'm going to be an aunt too! My sister-in-law is two months pregnant! :-D

Have you got the chance to meet your niece yet? 

LOL... that is pretty funny. She sound's adorable! ^_^ 

Well, if you reading this late again; Sweet Dreams! (And if you're not: Good morning, Good afternoon, and Good evening! ^_^)

Bye! ^_^

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Serpent of Light (a.k.a. Sunrunner of Summer) -  
  
LOL, you're welcome... 

Well, not yet anyway... you'll have to wait and see. ^_^

LOL, why? You don't want your mum to read your work, or something?

Thanks for reviewing! ^_^

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Lovevanillacreme -   
  
LOL, well here it is. What'd you think?

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Xirleb70 -  
  
Thank you ^_^, that's always good to hear...

So you don't like working on more then one story at a time? I can understand that... 

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Makulit - ()  
  
LOL, yeah, I guess... ^_^

Well... not quite, but they will be seeing him soon... 

LOL, true... don't worry, this does have a plot... we just haven't _really_ gotten to it yet... 

Thanks for reviewing! ^_^

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Rachel A. Prongs -   
  
LOL, well, not yet anyway... Yes, the circle does have some significance in the story, you were right. 

Sorry about the longer wait for this one. And thank you. 

Bye! ^_^

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Ginny Potter - 

Thank you. LOL, I know what that's like. 

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As de corazones -  
  
LOL, thank you. ^_^ 

Yes, yes... I like mysterious relatives, they're fun! ^_^ 

Yeah, I invented the spell. And I agree, it'd be wonderful to have in real life! Ok, thanks.

I'll try. I'm aiming for an update on LS next, now that I can finally talk to V-Star about it again...

Yeah, I guess I should...Harry's mostly been out of the picture up to this point, hasn't he? 

Well, not easily... but he'll be going back... 

Thank you, and thanks for reviewing! 

Bye! ^_^

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Dracosgirl55 -   
  
Thank you very much. ^_^ 

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LittleEar BigEar's sis -  
  
LOL, Thank you. ^_^

I'm glad you like it. How was this chapter?

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Liberty Belleview -  
  
LOL ^_^

-_-* Well, yes... but a big problem is that they already 'know' her, they've spent a lot of time with her, and they feel bad for accusing her before... So they're brains kind of leave her out of the running. 

Yeah, Tonks was great wasn't she? She was one of my faves from bk5... 

LOL, thanks for reviewing. How was the trampoline?

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Karen -  
  
LOL, thank you. ^_^

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Pheonixrising1 - ()  
  
Thank you. ^_^

How was your trip?

LOL, very good, very good. Yes, that's pretty much what happened, except the whole world can only remember so much... 1. They only knew so much, & 2. They're now _capable_ of remembering, but that doesn't mean the definitely will... it just means that Vivian could now say that she was Harry's sister, and they'd believe her, whereas they wouldn't of even considered it before...

How was this chapter. 

*Sigh* Ok, the '1' thing... I didn't add it to mine, FF.net did. It's their new rule, announced on the 2nd: "_From today forward, no two FanFiction.Net members will share the same pen name. All members now have unique names that cannot be forged. Conflicts for same pen names on existing accounts have been resolved in the following manner: _

Naming priority is given to members that have published stories. Naming priority is given to older members. Conflicted names have a number appended to the end as result of priority rules. 

The unique pen-name system is designed to give writers the opportunity to grow their reputation without interference and was not pre-announced to prevent abuse."

I don't like it, and I've already complained, but they haven't replied or changed. It's annoying really. If you're #1, that means that there was only one person who picked that penname before you. For me at least, there is only one other person, and she has one story that hasn't been updated in 2 years!...Ok, I'll stop... deep breath, Jess... calm down... Well, anyway. I hope that helps...

Thanks for reviewing! ^_^

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Totallystellar - ()

Hi Meghan! Welcome! ^_^

LOL, I must say, it was interesting to watch your reviews coming up (I have review alert, so I receive all of the reviews by email). I'm glad you like the story that much. 

Yes, Snape isn't the most lovable character, is he? Well, you can't say he's (really) OOC!

Yeah, I know, that was one of the things I was specifically avoiding. Harry can grow a bit, but if you change him too much he's not Harry! I have another fic where he changes a lot more, but he had *a LOT* more time (over 2000 years) to do so!

LOL, yeah details tend to matter to me... I can become very annoyed over the tiniest things... I like writing humor in with my stories, but just a touch of it. 

  
LOL, Thank you. :-P ( ^_^ )

LOL, I remember getting this one... Yes, I know the feeling (referring to review for ch11) 

Oh... I can't really answer that... Vivian's a complex character, but you can guess a few of the reasons she'd be holding back... And you'll have to wait till the next chapter for the answer to the last question! :-P

LOL, thank you.

And thanks for the effort. It was really very touching. ^_^

Bye! ^_^

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Everpresent - ()  
  
LOL. Well I hope you had a nice trip. 

Yeah, you're right... "Tonks" does seem a little harsh for a boyfriend... of course, "Dora" sounds a little soft for her character, don't you think? *Shrugs* They could always have a nickname for her, one that isn't drawn from her name... 

LOL... LOL... *Shakes head* You know, I did actually write that scene at one point, as you put it; "Everyone falling over themselves trying to jump through the nearest Floo to Potier Manor" 

Yes, it does sound pretty cool, doesn't it?

Umm.... Ship? Not at the moment, no... maybe later. You're right, it would only be a side plot. I have nothing against H/G, so I'll consider it, but I'm really not sure where that aspect of the story will be going... I've been concentrating on others. 

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Fan4life -  
  
Thanks. ^_^

AN: Well, that's it for Chapter 12! I hope it was worth the wait! Now, I really don't know how quickly the next chapter will be out. I have to start getting ready for school soon, and I want to update a bunch of other stories. So I'll try to get at least one more chapter out this month, but I don't know when it will be ready...

REVIEW!

REVIEW!!

REVIEW!!!

__

REVIEW!!!

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REVIEW!!!

REVIEW!!!...please?

Bye! ^_^

~ Jess S


	14. Chapter 13: Back to School

Disclaimer: I own the plot, I apologize if it's been done before. Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.  
  
AN: Hi! Real AN at the end! Enjoy!

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Consanguina by Jess S  
  
Chapter 13: Back to School...

It was just before dawn that saw Harry Potter appear in the middle of finely furnished hotel room, holding onto a small card, with his eyes clenched tightly shut. He'd never really been overly fond of Portkeys, and it wasn't too hard to understand why, but it was the only real way he could leave the Manor without leaving a trail, according to Vivian. Now, of course, if the Ministry or the Order of the Phoenix _could_ trace the Portkey, if it existed later after its use. Which, of course, Harry knew it did not, as he quickly dropped it, opening his eyes to watch the small, shrinking flame it had become, fall down to the floor. However, it never reached _that_ destination, for it was ash long before it even came close.

That distraction denied him, Harry instead turned his attention to the room he'd be spending the rest of the morning in. It was, undoubtedly, as expensive as it was beautiful...

A plush, dark blue carpet was covered by elaborate furniture. Knowing already that this room had to be pretty expensive, the young wizard didn't doubt that they were antiques. He walked over to the closed closet, and opened it to find his trunk had already been placed there, as had Hedwig's cage. The owl herself was staying at the Manor until tomorrow. The elaborate mirrors and paintings were elegant, not gaudy. 

However, it was king-size bed with white, silk sheets, pillows and a silky white comforter, that drew his attention. It wasn't yet five o'clock in the morning, so, needless to say; he was tired. Not that _that _would be a surprise anyway, it seemed like he was _always_ tired nowadays!

So he didn't really hesitate in pulling back the comforter and climbing under, he didn't need to change, mainly because Vivian had told him to go in his pajamas any ways. Undoubtedly knowing that he'd just go back to bed. What else was he supposed to do? He wasn't supposed to be at the station before nine o'clock!

~ * ~

It was a rather strange site, the trio sitting at one of the tables in the street side cafe, which offered them a nearly perfect view of Platform 1 at Kings' Cross-Station. [To those who (have been to/live in) London, I apologize if it's more then a bit inaccurate, I'm pretty much making this up because: 1. It works for the story, and 2. While I did go there a while back, I can't remember what the actual set up is!]

After all, to all outward appearances Vivian Potier, Arabella Figg, and Alastor Moody had absolutely nothing in common. Potier was a woman of over twenty years they're junior, dressed so fashionably in Muggle attire that one could easily mistake her for a model. Moody, even with his magical eye hidden, was quite a sight in a rather old tweed suit and an over-sized bowler cap. Figg, while not nearly so odd in appearance as the elder of her partners, was still rather odd, considering the fact that she could easily pass as someone's retired Muggle aunt in the pale, flower-print dress she was wearing.

Vivian had been forced to suppress a smile when she'd seen this, shaking her head instead. Arabella and Alastor may be Aurors, but they certainly wouldn't fit into in her department. All of the Aurors that worked for her were required to go through intensive Muggle-studies, along with many other studies, before they received their status as an Auror. Muggle fashion was one of the things they studied, for just the reason that sat before her now. 

Most Wizards, surprisingly even many Muggle-borns, stuck out like sore thumbs in the Muggle world when they tried to conceal themselves. The Wizarding world as a whole was unaware of this, because most Muggles instinctively ignored many of the 'strange' things they saw each day. 

The ability to truly blend in with Muggle culture was a valuable tool to operatives who were undercover, _and_ those that weren't. It also gave them with a certain awareness that most Wizards lacked. The ignorant Wizarding community wouldn't break any of the statues of secrecy by making the Muggles aware of their existence simply by the way they dressed, because the Muggles wouldn't notice. One of her Aurors, however, _would_. If you had to find a wizard in a group of one hundred people, nine out of ten times one of her Aurors would be able to find the Wizard on the first try. If they missed, then their second guess was _always_ correct.

"The earlier, the better, huh?" Arabella raised an eyebrow at Moody. "Well, it's nearly nine o'clock and still no sign of the boy... You're loosing your edge, Mad-Eye."

Moody snorted, "We should've been here at midnight, last night! When the thirty-first _started_. For all we know he's been waiting on the platform since then..."

"He's not."

Both Aurors turned to look at their younger colleague.

After taking a sip of her half-empty teacup, Vivian continued, not looking at them, as her emerald-gaze was focused across the street. "I checked when I arrived."

"When _did_ you get here?" Arabella wanted to know.

"A little over a half-an-hour before you," the raven-haired witch shrugged. Before either of the other two could say something she nodded out the window, "Might that be him?"

"Where?" Arabella inquired as both she and Moody turned to look.

"By the hot dog stand..." Vivian replied, "I think he's ordering a hot chocolate." 

After a moment Arabella nodded, "That's him all right... shall we go then?"

"Of course we should!" Moody snapped, rising quickly and moving towards the door. The other two shook their heads, before rising to follow. 

Vivian handed a twenty-pound note to their waitress before exiting the shop and following her companions across the street. [That's the right term, right? ...sorry, if it isn't...]

"Miss! _Miss!_" the waitress called from the shop door, and Vivian turned slightly in response. "You forgot your change!" 

"Keep it," Vivian called back, before spinning on her heel and walking down the steps to enter the station. 

~ * ~

Harry sighed, shaking his head as he finished packing his trunk. He'd changed into semi-formal black slacks and a red top. '_I can leave a little early, can't I?_' he thought, glancing at the clock, which now read 7:00 am. '_If I leave now, I could probably stop for breakfast somewhere, and still be at the station around nine..._'

After a moment, he nodded, and, that decided, he exited the suite, pulling his trunk behind him. Vivian had enchanted it to look like it was designed the same way many Muggle suitcases were, with wheels and a long handle to pull by. The wheels were really just an illusion, though. She'd really bound a strong levitation charm to the trunk, so it was actually quite easy to travel with. 

A few minutes later, he was stepping out of the elevator and making his way over to the front desk. The room key that he'd found on the desk, where Ria had said she'd leave it, as well as the one Ria had given him, in hand. 

"Excuse me?" he asked, once there.

The clerk, a young woman with blonde hair and hazel eyes raised an eyebrow. "Yes, may I help you?"

"Yes, please," Harry replied. "I'd like to check out."

The clerk blinked, "Oh...all right. What room were you in?"

"Room ###, my sister and I've been there for two weeks." Harry replied, "She had to go to another meeting today, so she told me to check out."

The clerk was obviously more than a little surprised, but nodded anyway, smiling pleasantly. "Oh, all right.... You have two keys?"

"Yes, ma'am," Harry replied, placing both keys on the desk. 

"You're all set then," she smiled. "Thank you for stay with us, and I hope you enjoy your trip, Mr. James."

"Thank you," Harry smiled back at her, before turning around and making his way over to the door. Outside, he found a limousine parked along the curb. He could see the chauffeur sitting in the front, watching him, so he waved, smiling slightly. 

The chauffeur nodded, before turning slightly to open the driver's side door, and exiting to walk around to his side of the limousine. "Mr. James?" he inquired, smiling politely.

"Yes," Harry nodded, "that's me..."

"Welcome, sir." The Muggle man, who couldn't be that much older than Harry himself, bowed. "Your sister is not coming?" he asked, looking around.

"No," the teen sighed, "she had an appointment that she couldn't miss."

"Very well," the blonde smiled kindly at the boy's obvious nervousness. "I am William, and I will be your driver for the morning. Your sister was not clear on how long you would need transport..."

"The morning's fine," Harry replied, moving into the limousine as William held the door for him. The door closed a moment later, and he could see the chauffeur moving around to the front of the limo again.

A few seconds later William had reached the drivers side, and opened the door, to slip in, before closing the door. "Where would you like to go first, Mr. James?"

"How about some where for breakfast?"

It took them a half-an-hour to reach the small cafe William was fond of, and, after spending a little over an hour there, eating, they left to head for the station. Thanks to the early-morning traffic, that was certainly no easy, and he was little more then ten minutes early when they arrived at Kings Cross.

"Kings Cross, first platform, sir." William told him, albeit unnecessarily, as he stopped the car a short distance from the exit. "Are you sure you don't want to wait for your sister, and catch a later train?" He asked, evidently not overly happy with leaving the teen at the station by himself.

"No, this is fine," Harry told him, smiling slightly when the older man shook his head. "Vivian's schedule can be hard to predict. Waiting would be rather pointless, as she might not be able to come at all. Thank you for the morning."

"Oh, no problem at all, sir." The chauffeur nodded as he opened his door to get out, and come back to open the rear door for Harry. "Would you like some help with your luggage?" he asked as he pulled Harry's trunk out of the back of the limo, while Harry picked up the other, rather peculiar 'bag', which was actual Hedwig's cage in disguise.

"No, thank you," the wizard replied, "It's quite light."

The Muggle looked at him oddly, but seemed to shrug it off, shaking his head. "If you say so.... Thank you for riding with us, Mr. James."

"Thank you," Harry nodded, before pulling his trunk off. Vivian had placed a number of charms and illusions on his luggage. The first, made it weightless when he was carrying it, but it was quite heavy for anyone else, which was what had surprised the chauffer so much. The second was an illusion that made it look like the trunk had wheels, to explain the third, which made the trunk float a little over a foot above the ground, to make it easy to carry. Another one was the spell that made Hedwig's cage look like a strange bag, and the last one was a 'notice-me-not' charm, so that no undue attention was drawn to him.

The Boy-Who-Lived sighed, looking around the entrance to the platform after William had left. It didn't take him long to locate the small cafe across the crowded street that Vivian had told him she and the other two Aurors would be sitting in. But he wasn't supposed to know that they were there, so he couldn't go over to them. Instead, his eyes landed on a small hot dog booth a few feet away, and, after buying a cup of hot chocolate, he headed into the station. Then he sat down on one of the benches a short distance from the door, to enjoy the steaming beverage he'd just bought. He hadn't taken more then two scalding sips, however, before a semi-familiar voice greeted him. 

"Good to see you in one piece, Potter."

Harry looked up quickly, smiling slightly as he saw Mad-Eyed Moody standing before him. Of course, it took him a moment to figure out who he was, as the retired Auror's most distinctive and a large bowler cap hid namesake feature. "Good morning, Profess--"

"I'm not your professor anymore, boy. Never was, really."

"Then you won't be teaching this year?" the younger wizard inquired, tilting his head slightly.

"No," Moody shook his head, "bit to busy for that, 'm afraid."

"What'd you--" Harry stopped suddenly, looking momentarily stunned as he noticed that witch that had stepped up beside the other wizard. He could see Vivian making her way over to them, but he wasn't watching her. "M-Mrs. Figg? What're you -- You're a witch?"

Looking more than a little amused as she did so, his former babysitter nodded, smiling slightly.

"Good morning, Mr. Potter."

Harry had to repress a smile as he turned to his elder sibling. "Good morning...?"

"Vivien Potier," she continued, offering her hand to shake.

Harry took it, smiling softly. "Pleased to meet you."

"As am I," the general nodded, smiling gently. After a short moment, she returned his gentle squeeze before releasing his hand and turning slightly towards her comrades. "Shall we be on our way then?"

"Where are we going?" Harry asked, although he actually already knew, he wasn't _supposed_ to know.... In retrospect, he'd realize that this was part of the reason Vivian had done this, this way. It was rather fun!

"The Ministry," Moody told him, before nodding to Potier. "We'll be takin' you in to General Potier's sector."

"Why?"

"For your protection," Vivian replied smoothly, smiling slightly. "And to ensure that you are who you say, and we believe, you are."

"Oh..." After a moment, the Gryffindor shrugged. "Okay..."

~ * ~

There was a lot of commotion in the House of Black the next morning. Two female voices were screaming out, one because that was what 'she' _always_ did, and the other was focusing on her twin sons. Apparently the two of them had bewitched their trunks to fly downstairs, so that they wouldn't have to carry them. A good idea certainly, except for the fact that their younger sister, Ginny was on her way down at the time, and was therefore sent flying down two flights of stairs into the hall.

"_She could have been **seriously** hurt, you idiots!_" 

"We didn't _mean_ to have them run into Gin', Mum!" one of them protested.

The other nodded, "Yeah, and besides, she alright, now. Isn't she?"

"_No thanks to **you**!_" Their mother roared back at them, before looking around and taking note of the fact that her youngest son and neither of his best friends were there. "_Will you two get down here, please!_" she bellowed up the stairs.

This quickly resulted in what sounded like a small stamped as the pair raced down the stairs, dragging their trunks behind them. No body bothered to close the curtains that usually concealed Mrs. Black's portrait, despite her howls, the amount of noise they were making would surely rouse her again, anyway.

"Leave your trunk and your owl," Mrs. Weasley told them, still having to shout to be heard over Mrs. Black's howls of Mudbloods and Blood-traitors. "Alastor's going to deal with the luggage," she explained as she opened the door, only to have a bearlike black dog bolt through. "Oh for Merlin's sake, Sirius, Dumbledore said _no!_"

The dog ignored her, choosing instead to run around in the sunshine, rolling in the grass, obviously pleased with himself.

"Oh _honestly..._" the Weasley matron rolled her eyes, before turning her head back to the children at Hermione's inquiry of:

"Where's Tonks? Wasn't she going to go with us?"

"She's waiting for us at the end of the street," the older witch replied stiffly, pointedly ignoring the dog that was lolloping around them as they made their way down the street.

"Wotcher, Weasleys! Hermione," an old woman with tightly curled gray hair under a hat shaped like a porkpie. "Better hurry up, hadn't we, Molly?" she added, checking her watch.

"I know, I know," the other witch moaned in reply, while lengthening her stride. "If only Arthur could have brought us cars from the Ministry again...but Fudge wouldn't let him borrow so much as an empty bottle of ink these days... _How_ Muggles can stand traveling without magic...."

It took them all of twenty minutes to reach Kings Cross by foot, a trek that apparently only the large black dog that accompanied them enjoyed. Sirius had been trapped inside for a very long time, usually leaving only to help with the search for Harry. But since they'd received the letter from his godson's aunt saying that Harry would be returning to them, he hadn't had anything to do. Therefore even a stroll outside was a pleasurable experience. 

Once inside the station they lingered casually beside the barrier between platforms nine and ten until the coast was clear, then each of them leaned against it in turn and fell easily through onto platform nine and three quarters. The Hogwarts Express was there, belching sooty steam over a platform packed with departing students and their families. But that wasn't what the entire group's attention was immediately drawn to.

"Harry!" several of them cried out, running over to where he was waiting for them, a short distance from the train. It was the large, Grim-like black dog, however, that reached him first. 

"Snuffles!" the teen laughed as he pushed the massive hound down from his face, which he seemed to be content with drowning in dog drool. "Hi, guys," he smiled, nodding to the group that had crowded around him. "How was your summer?" 

~ * ~

[This Song, obviously, belongs to J.K. Rowling, not me.]

__

In times of old when I was new

And Hogwarts barely started

The founders of our noble school

Thought never to be parted:

United by a common goal,

They had the selfsame yearning,

To make the world's best magic school

And pass along their learning.

"Together we will teach!"

The four good friends decided

And never did they dream that they

Might some day be divided,

Four were their such good friends anywhere

As Slytherin and Gryffindor?

Unless it was the second pair

Of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw?

So how could it have gone so wrong?

How could such friendships fail?

Why, I was there and so I tell

The whole sad, sorry tale.

Said Slytherin, "We'll teach just those

Whose ancestry is purest."

Said Ravenclaw, "We'll teach those whose

Intelligence is surest."

Said Gryffindor, "We'll teach all those

With brave deeds to their name."

Said Hufflepuff, "I'll teach the lot,

And treat them just the same."

Those differences caused a little strife

When first they came to light,

For each of the four founders had

A House in which they might

Take only those they wanted, so,

For instance, Slytherin,

Took only pure-blooded wizards

Of great cunning, just like him.

And only those of sharpest mind

Were taught by Ravenclaw

While the bravest and the boldest

Went to daring Gryffindor.

Good Hufflepuff, she took the rest,

And taught them all she knew,

Thus the Houses and their founders

Retained friendships firm and true.

So Hogwarts worked in harmony,

For several happy years,

But then discord crept among us

Feeding our faults and fears.

The Houses that, like pillars four,

Had once held up the school,

Now turned upon each other and,

Divided, sought to rule.

And for a while it seemed the school

Must meet an early end,

What with dueling and fighting

And the clash of friend and friend

And at last there came the morning

When old Slytherin departed

And thought the fighting then died out

He left us quite downhearted.

And never since the founders four

Were whittled down to three

Have the Houses been united

As they were once meant to be.

And now the Sorting Hat is here

And you all know the score:

I sort you into Houses

Because that's what I'm here for,

But this year I'll go further,

Listen closely to my song:

Though condemned I am to split you

Still I worry this is wrong,

Though I may fulfill my duty

And must quarter every year

Still I wonder whether sorting

May not bring the end I fear.

Oh, know the perils, know the signs,

The warning history shows,

For our Hogwarts is in danger

From external, deadly foes

And we must unite inside her

Or we'll crumble from within

I have told you, I have warned you...

Let the Sorting now begin.

After that the hat became both motionless and soundless, while applause, punctured with muttering and whispers, broke out. All across the Hall, students were exchanging remarks with their neighbors, undoubtedly echoing Ron's sentiments of: "Branched out a bit this year, hasn't it?" Ron commented, his eyebrows raised.

Harry nodded in agreement. The Sorting Hat usually confined itself to describing the different qualities looked for by each of the four Hogwarts Houses and its own role in sorting them.

"I wonder if it's ever given warnings before?" Hermione wondered aloud, sounding slightly anxious.

"Yes, indeed," Nearly Headless Nick replied knowledgeably, leaning across Neville towards her. This caused Neville to wince, as it was very uncomfortable to have a ghost lean through you. "The Hat feels honor-bound to give the school warning whenever it feels-" he stopped, placing a see-through-finger up to his lips and nodding towards the staff table.

They turned to see their Head of House giving the still-chattering students a scorching look, which was undoubtedly the cause for the mutterings rather abrupt end.

After casting a last, slightly displeased, measuring look around the Hall, Professor McGonagall lowered her eyes to her long piece of parchment and called out, "Abercrombie, Euan."

This brought a terrified-looking boy stumbling forth in his haste. He followed McGonagall's motions, and sat on the stool, trembling slightly, even as the Deputy Headmistress placed the Sorting Hat on his small head. In truth, the only reason the hat stayed on his tiny head was because of his very prominent ears. 

Everyone waited excitedly as the Hat considered, and a moment later the rip near the brim opened again with a shout of, "_GRYFFINDOR!_"

Harry, and the rest of the Gryffindor table, clapped loudly as the small boy staggered over to their table and sat down, looking very much like he wanted to sink into the floor and never be seen again.

That was the beginning of the Sorting of 1995 commenced, which ended once the Sorting Hat had sorted all of the incoming students. After the last first year, "Zeller, Rose" was sorted into Hufflepuff, Professor McGonagall removed the Hat and stool from the Hall, while the Headmaster rose to his feet.

Harry had to smile as he met Professor Dumbledore's eyes. He could see that the Headmaster was curious, indeed, how could he not be? But he seemed to have reacted the same way to Vivian's 'threat' the same way his friends had: Harry was back, and for the moment, that was all that mattered. 

"To our newcomers," Dumbledore began in a ringing voice, his arms stretched wide and his lips bearing a beaming smile, "welcome! To our old hands - welcome back! There is a time for speech making, but this is not it. Tuck in!"

Appreciative laughter and applause came as the Headmaster sat down as the Feast appeared before them all. The five long tables were now groaning under joints, pies, dishes of vegetables, bread, sauces, and flagons of pumpkin juice.

"_Excellent!_" Ron groaned as he hurriedly reached for the nearest plate of chops to begin piling them on his plate.

Harry shook his head, smiling slightly while accepting the dish of green peas from Lavender, "Thank you..." he nodded to her, smiling slightly, but turning away before she could start questioning him like all of his other school acquaintances had. 

"What were you saying before the Sorting, Sir Nicholas?," Hermione inquired, turning slightly toward the ghost. "About the Hat giving warnings?"

"Oh yes," the ghost replied, seeming glad to have a reason to turn away from Ron, who was now eating roast potatoes with almost indecent enthusiasm. "Yes, I have heard the Hat give several warnings before, always at times when it detects periods of great danger for the school. And always, of course, its advice is the same: Stand together, and be strong from within."

"'Ow kunnit nofe skusin danger ifzat?" the redhead asked, his mouth so full that Harry had to silently acknowledge it was quite an achievement, if a bit disgusting one, for him to make any noise at all. Hermione, on the other hand, looked openly revolted.

"I beg your pardon?" Nearly Headless Nick inquired after a moment's silence.

Ron gave an enormous swallow before asking again, "How can it know the school's in danger if it's a hat?"

"I have no idea," the Gryffindor Ghost replied. "Of course, it lives in the Headmaster's office, so I daresay it picks things up there."

"And it wants all of the Houses to be friends?" Ron asked, glancing over at the Slytherin table. "Fat chance."

Harry frowned, but otherwise made no response to that. Had he not been under Vivian's care over the last few weeks, and heard more then once of how much she despised the House system, he probably would've agreed. But one of the things that made Vivian's section of the Magical Law Enforcement Department so powerful and effective was the she simply didn't allow any of the House tradition and 'clicks' from schools to be carried on at work. From what Ria had told him, that had caused quite a fuss when she first started enforcing it, a few years back, but once everyone got used to it, it made their sector a force to be reckoned with.... 

A short time later, when all of the students had finished eating, and the noise level was starting to creep up once again, Dumbledore rose to his feet once more. This, of course, made all talking cease immediately as all of the students turned toward the Headmaster. 

"Well, now that we are all digesting another magnificent feast, I beg a few moments of your attention for the usual start-of-term notices," Dumbledore began, still smiling pleasantly at all of them. "First years ought to know that the forest in the grounds is out of bounds to students - and a few of our older students ought to know by now too.... Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me, for what he tells me is the four hundred and sixty-second time, to remind you that magic is not permitted in corridors between classes. Nor are a number of other things, all of which can be found on the extensive list now fastened to Mr. Filch's office door." After a moment's pause, the Headmaster continued, still smiling. "We have had two changes in staffing this year. And we are very pleased to welcome back Professor Grubby-Plank, who will be taking Care of Magical Creatures lessons; and we are also delighted to introduce Professor Umbridge, our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

There was a round of polite, but fairly unenthusiastic applause as the two new teachers stood up. Professor Grubby-Plank sat down at the end of the faint round, while Dumbledore continued.

"Tryouts for the House Quidditch teams will take place on the-" He broke off, looking inquiringly at Professor Umbridge.

As she was not much taller standing than sitting, there was a moment when nobody understood why Dumbledore had stopped talking, but then Professor Umbridge said, "_Hem, hem,_" and it became clear that she intended to make a speech.

The Headmaster only looked taken aback for a moment, then he sat down smartly, and looked alertly at Professor Umbridge as though he desired nothing more than to listen to her talk. Other members of the staff were not as adept as hiding their surprise, as no teacher, let alone a new one, had ever had the nerve to interrupt Dumbledore before. Many of the older students were smirking, evidently thinking that this woman did not know how things were done at Hogwarts.

"Thank you, Headmaster," Professor Umbridge simpered in high-pitched, little-girlish voice, "for those kind words of welcome." She gave another throat clearing, "_Hem, hem,_" and continued. "Well, it is lovely to be back at Hogwarts, I must say!" She smiled revealing very pointed teeth. "And to see such happy faces looking back at me!"

Harry didn't need to glance around to know no one looked happy. How could they? They were all teenagers, and she was talking to them like they were five-year-olds! It was becoming clear to him why Vivian disliked this woman so much. She didn't like Fudge, but from the way she'd talked of his Undersecretary he'd quickly gathered that she _despised_ the woman.

"I am very much looking forward to getting to know you all, and I'm sure we'll be very good friends!" Students exchanged looks at this, and some of them were barely concealing grins as their new Professor continued.

"I'll be friends with her, as long as I don't have to borrow that cardigan!" Parvati whispered to Lavender, and both collapsed into silent giggles.

"_Hem, hem,_" Umbridge continued, this time in a less breathy, more businesslike manner, with obviously over-rehearsed words. "The Ministry of Magic has considered the education of young witches and wizards to be of vital importance. The rare gifts with which you were born may come to nothing if not nurtured and honed by careful instruction. The ancient skills unique to the Wizarding community must be passed down through generations lest we lose them forever. The treasure trove of magical knowledge amassed by our ancestors must be guarded, replenished, and polished by those who have been called to the noble profession of teaching." She paused here to make a small bow to her fellow staff members.

None of the Professors bowed back, and Professor McGonagall's dark eyebrows had contracted so much that she now looked a great deal like a hawk when she exchanged a significant glance with Professor Sprout.

"_Hem, hem,_" Umbridge went on with her speech, "Every headmaster and headmistress of Hogwarts had brought something new to the weighty task of governing this historic school, and that is as it should be, for without progress there will be stagnation and decay. There again, progress for progress's sake must be discouraged, for our tried and tested traditions often require no tinkering. A balance, then, between old and new, between permanence and change, between tradition and innovation....."

The quiet that always filled the Hall when Dumbledore was speaking had started breaking up moments before, when students began putting their heads together, whispering and giggling. 

Umbridge, however, did not seem to notice the restlessness of her audience, and Harry had the impression a full-scale riot could have broken out under her nose and she would have plowed on with her speech. Hermione and the teachers seemed to be the only people that were paying the least bit of attention. He could tell by his friend's expression, though, that while she may be absorbing everything the upstart said, she didn't like a single word. He didn't have the patience to listen to the windbag, something he knew Vivian would want to work on later, but could you really blame him? Nonetheless, the thought of his sister's disapproval made him tune back into the 'speech'.

"...because some changes will be fore the better, while others will come , in the fullness of time, to be recognized as errors of judgement. Meanwhile, some old habits will be retained, and rightly so, whereas others, outmoded and outworn, must be abandoned. Let us move forward, then, into a new era of openness, effectiveness, and accountability, intent on preserving what ought to be preserved, perfecting what needs to be perfected, and pruning wherever we find practices that ought to be prohibited." And then, _finally_, she sat down.

The Headmaster stood up once again, bringing his hands together, the staff and the students followed his lead, though the students weren't the least bit enthusiastic about it, and they apparent still found their own conversations more important. Even the teachers could be seen putting their heads together throughout the applause. As the 'applause' died down, so did all other noise, as the student body looked expectantly towards their Headmaster, once again.

"Thank you very much, Professor Umbridge, that was most illuminating," Dumbledore said, bowing slightly to her. "Now - as I was saying, Quidditch tryouts will be held..."

"Yes, it certainly was illuminating," Hermione murmured in a low voice.

Ron turned to stare at her. "You're not telling me you enjoyed it?" The redhead protested. "That was about the dullest speech I've ever heard, and I grew up with Percy!"

"I said _illuminating_, not _enjoyable_," Hermione replied. "It explained a lot."

"It did?" Ron blinked, then shook his head. "It sounded like a lot of waffle to me."

Harry had to fight to suppress a laugh at that.

"There was some important stuff in that waffle." Hermione told him grimly.

"Was there?" Ron inquired blankly.

"How about 'progress for progress's sake must be discouraged'? How about 'pruning whenever we find practices that ought to be prohibited'?"

"Well, what does it mean?" Ron asked impatiently.

"Never mind," Hermione's sigh was almost drowned out by the great clattering and banging around them, caused by the other students' departure.

~ * ~

"So..." the Dark Lord hissed softly, "the younger Potter has been found, then...."

"Yes, my lord," Professor Snape replied, nodding slightly. "Dumbledore informed the Order just this morning... He did not give his specific location--"

"Oh? Then he isn't sending any of his do-gooders to retrieve him?"

"The Auror's who have been looking for the boy; Moody, Figg and Potier, were going to collect him earlier this morning."

"Where?"

"Despite numerous inquires from various Light advocate's, the Headmaster would not offer that piece of information."

"Hmm... Very well, then," Voldemort nodded, and after several moments of thought, he returned his attention to the Potions Master. "And I don't suppose the Muggle-lover thought to introduce the elder Potter sibling?"

"He doesn't know where, or _who_, she is, my lord," Snape didn't even need to bend the truth that time. "The entire Order is searching for her, and trying to remember more about her, but as of yet they've had little success...."

"Indeed...." the Dark Lord laughed iniquitously. "Well, at least that is one advantage we have."

Snape clearly wasn't the only one surprised as this. The whispers that quickly began circulating throughout the chamber, as many Death Eaters turned to their neighbors, attested that fact.

"P-Pardon, my Lord?" Snape inquired politely, forcefully suppressing a wince at his initial stutter.

"It is most unfortunate that she seems so inclined to aiding the Light. Though, perhaps with some... persuasion, she could be made to see our point of view...."

"You know who Potter's older sister is, my Lord?" Lucius Malfoy's dignified voice came from a short distance behind Snape.

"Of _course_ I do," the Dark Lord replied, a slight note of amusement in his tone. "If I didn't no one else would know that she existed, thanks to the Muggle-lover's rather effective spell...."

"And you feel that she could be made to see our point of view, my Lord?" the slightly doubtful voice of Walden Macnair, inquired.

"Perhaps...." the Dark Lord nodded once again. "And she would undoubtedly be a powerful asset."

"Would you like one of us to approach her, my Lord?" Malfoy offered, although Snape was quite sure that the other Slytherin knew what his master's response would be as Snape himself did.

"No," Voldemort shook his head. "Not quite yet... I should like to see how she continues to act throughout the course of the next few weeks, before approaching her."

"Then perhaps one of us should watch her, my Lord?" Another Death Eater; either Avery or Jugson, the Potions Master wasn't sure which. 

"One of you already is, _and will continue to do so_...." After pausing to make sure his servants understood: _end of discussion_, Lord Voldemort nodded, "Dismissed."

After bowing, all of the Dark Lord's servants quickly departed from their Lord's demonic presence.

When he finally reached the outside, and was able to remove his mask and breath in the cool night air, Snape noticed a figure he could recognize. For, indeed, Lucius Malfoy was one of the few among Voldemort's minions that he knew reasonably well, so he could recognize him on sight, if not for his sheer presence, then certainly from his attire and stature.

Once he'd looked around, and was therefore fairly certain that they were alone, the Potions Master called after the departing figure. "Lucius?"

The other wizard halted abruptly, before turning back towards the Hogwarts Professor, and removing his mask with a flick of his wand. "Severus," he nodded, before re-sheathing his wand.

"You are well?" the Potions Master inquired politely, as he came up alongside the other wizard.

"As well as can be expected, considering the circumstances of the last few weeks."

"Hmm," the Head of Slytherin House nodded in agreement, "And how is Draco?"

Most would not have noticed the blonde's slight wince in the dark hours of the night, hooded by the shadows of his flawlessly tailored black cloak. But most were not Severus Snape.

"Draco fell ill a short time ago, but his condition is improving steadily."

Snape frowned, but nonetheless nodded, "That is good to hear. Would that be why he didn't come on the train?" 

"Yes... I will bring him in as soon as the Healers think he is well enough."

Again, the Slytherin Head nodded, "You must do what you think is best, of course... Although you could always bring him into Madam Pomphrey, if his condition does not improve. That would allow him to keep up with his schoolwork more readily, without taxing himself."

"Perhaps," Malfoy nodded, "but that is not yet necessary, and the first week of classes isn't overly important."

"No, it's usually just review. And he can make up the lab work he misses in Potions. We're just covering the freezing potions... Although, it wouldn't be wise for him to miss the second week. I believe McGonagall plans on starting with Animagus magic early this year."

"And Transfiguration has never been his forte," Malfoy nodded, as they came up to the end of the anti-Apparation zone "I will keep that in mind. Thank you, Severus."

"A pleasure," Snape nodded, watching as the Lord of the Malfoy Manor disappeared with a soft 'pop'. That signified how stressed he was, as he'd practiced Apparation so thoroughly over the years that he generally made no noise when performing it, just as the Slytherin Head himself didn't, when he Apparated to Hogsmeade.

~ * ~

As always, the Gryffindor Common Room had been a welcome sight, as cozy and inviting as ever. But he hadn't wanted to stay down there... Not with all of the questions being directed his way. It seems his supposed 'kidnapping' had been big news, and it had become ever bigger when the world remembered that he had an older sister. So now, of course, everyone (except those who were _incredibly_ dense) was rather sure he'd been staying with his sister, and they wanted to know who she was.

So the reason for the spell Vivian had cast became clear, he wouldn't have to say anything, indeed he couldn't, until the world remembered everything on its own... Ron and Hermione were apparently aware of that fact, as they kept chasing off anyone who was bothering him during the feast, on the way to the Tower, and even now, Ron was yelling at their roommates.

"Give him a break! He doesn't _have_ to tell us if he doesn't want to!"

So his return to school had been a bit more pleasant then he'd expected it to be. They hadn't even had a run-in with Malfoy. Would wonders never cease?

But something was missing...

And he knew what it was...

During the past four years, coming to Hogwarts felt like coming _home_. That wasn't there now, he'd left home to come here... And he wasn't sure he liked it...

If there was one thing Harry Potter had never expected, it was that he might be homesick on his first night back in the Gryffindor Tower...but he was...

__

End of Chapter 13.

Translations:

Consanguina - related by blood (Latin)

****

Response to Reviewers:

LittleEar BigEar's sis - Congratulations! You're the 100th reviewer for this story! ^_^

Thank you, I'm glad you like it. And sorry for the wait. I hope you chocolate chip cookies helped... Now I want to bake...Ack!

Liberty Belleview/Sticker Queen - LOL, that's good.   
  
Yes, I thought so too... But don't worry! It won't be long now! ^_^

Jaded*Secrets - Hi! LOL, thank you. ^_^

Yup! ^_^ Although I have to feel a little bad for her, because my brother's turned out to be a bit of a worry-wort about it. He's read dozens of books about pregnancy and how to care for an infant and whatnot, so now he worries about _everything_ that _could_ go wrong! There are tons of things she can't eat! She can't even have caffeine! She's due in late March, it turns out the two months thing was a little off. 

What's your niece like? Surely you must have met her by now! 

LOL, well, we'll try again:

If you reading this late again; Sweet Dreams! (And if you're not: Good morning, Good afternoon, and Good evening! ^_^)

^_^* That was another reviewer, someone who came after you. 

Totallystellar - LOL, glad to see someone's happy. ^_^  
  
And yes, I suppose that does fit...

Glad you like it ^_^

Oh, it'll get a bit more complicated then this, don't worry.   
  
Oh, I don't know. I've always felt that Snape has to be at least somewhat human... Otherwise, why would he be spying for Dumbledore? 

Xirleb70 - LOL, same here. That's why I hadn't updated any of my stories in so long. I was trying to write chapters for several different stories at once...it didn't work...

  
Thank you. ^_^ 

Rachel A. Prongs - Glad to hear it! ^_^  
  
Harry was innately tied into the spell, and it had been a part of his being for so long that his body didn't like having it suddenly torn away.

...Well I don't know about you, but I don't think I'd be able to sleep very well in a cupboard under the stairs, full of spiders *shudder*... and he had to spend a lot of his waking hours running from his cousin... _And_ he really didn't have a home to feel safe, and loved in.... So I think it would have to affect him in some way, and that's one of the ways... There are other reasons, but I can't tell you those yet, you'll have to wait and see! :-P

LOL, don't worry. That's one of the things I didn't like about Bk5. Harry became a real teenage boy... Ugh... 

Oh, she will, she will *evil smile/smirk*

****

Wytil - ...Yes. He was really close to remembering, and seeing a picture of her did it.

Pheonixrising1 - LOL, that's good. ^_^

Yes, the spell affected Harry throughout his entire childhood too, just like it affected the rest of the world. It ensured that no one knew Vivian or the Potter Manor existed, outside of those who were living on the Manor when it was cast. So every time he met her, it didn't let her remember it. That's one of the reasons he reacted so violently to it. He had a bunch of memories that had been magically repressed, being set free. 

Oh she will...that's one of the scenes I'm looking forward to, if it works out well. 

No, that's one of the reasons Vivian's sector has it's own healers, for security. They're used to the dangers, secrecy and whatnot. They operate under it all the time. And N. Dolohov is already under Vivian's protection (Fidelius), so no one could find him anyway. 

  
I know, it's terrible, isn't it? I tried complaining, but they didn't reply. L 

Everpresent - LOL, yes, but I'm sure this didn't help!

Thank you, I try. ^_^ 

Oh, she was going to, and it's still a possibility, but she's not perfect. And with all of the confusion surrounding the last few weeks of summer and whatnot, she forgot. 

Yes ^_^

*Sigh* Actually was a bit stumped... I was trying to work on several other stories as the same time, and needless to say, it didn't work, sorry. 

Littletoaster - Glad to hear it ^_^  
  
Sorry about the wait....

And you won't actually get to see that until the next chapter, or possibly the one after that, but it's not that far off... 

Isn't it? ^_^

Liedral - I'm glad ^_^  
  
At the moment, they're trying to stick to their oaths, but that may be hard as time passes. 

Berri516 - Thank you ^_^

*Blink* *Blink* Wow, people are actually _recommending_ my fics? ... Wow... Ok... glad to hear it... still in a state of a shock... but glad to be.... 

****

Twin demonic angels - Thank you...^_^

Yes, everyone knows...they just don't know who the older one is... 

LOL, we'll see. ^_^

****

Thanks to: Szelij, **Jessyka, Howling wolf1**

AN: Well, that's it for Chapter 13! What'd you guys think? I know it was a bit of a filler, but it took forever to write, and I didn't feel like squeezing more in... 

Anyway, Happy Holidays! I'll try to update again soon, but another update before Christmas is very unlikely, considering it's two days away! I hope this was an OK present. 

Happy/Merry Christmas!

Bye! ^_^

~ **Jess S**


	15. Chapter 14: Shadows & Memories

Disclaimer: I own the plot; I apologize if it's been done before. Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.

AN: Hi! Real AN at the end! Enjoy!

* * *

**Consanguina**

**By Jess S**

**_Chapter 14: Shadows and Memories_**

"So you want to have someone following Harry at all times?" Dumbledore summarized, not really revealing his opinion on the subject by tone or expression. "Is that really necessary?"

"Perhaps not," Vivian shrugged, "but it couldn't hurt."

"It may interfere with his education, and possibly with the school's daily running."

"My people are _very_ good at what they do, Headmaster. They will not be noticed unless Mr. Potter is threatened, I assure you." She offered a small smile, "That is, after all, the function of a Shadow."

"Of course," the Professor nodded, not really appearing to give the matter much thought. "Do you really believe he may be in danger here? That his kidnapper might pursue him even after releasing him?"

The Auror shook her head, "That they allowed him to come suggests that he wasn't abducted at all, Headmaster. The Healers found little to suggest any ill-treatment from his host, with the exception of some cerebral trauma, which was probably caused by the reverberation that resulted in the remembrance of his sister."

"He may have even been staying with his sister."

"That is possible."

"Hmm…One would have to wonder why she wouldn't want to be recognized…"

"Would they?" Vivian asked. "I may be wrong, but, unless I'm mistaken, she was exiled from everything she knew and loved from her sixth birthday onward. Wouldn't it be a bit much to expect her to come running back?" she smiled. "I'm not saying that that's why she hasn't come forward--"

"But its very possible," Dumbledore nodded, looking very much his age.

"Yes, though she may have other reasons."

"Of course…" After several moments of silence, the Professor shook his head, seemingly forcing himself back from wherever his mind had momentarily wandered. "So an Umbrae Nutricius will be keeping an eye on him, then?"

"Just one Umbra at a time, in rotating shifts," the General nodded. "You might wish to inform the House Heads, Professor McGonagall in particular, of their presence though."

"That way she won't worry about intruders and whatnot," Dumbledore nodded. "Very well."

"And anyone who might be…uniquely inclined to notice their presence should be informed as well."

Dumbledore nodded once again. "Harry already knows, correct?"

"Yes." Vivian nodded, before glancing down at her watch. "I'm afraid I have to head back now, Headmaster. Thank you for your time, it was most appreciated." She told him, while rising, "And the tea was wonderful."

"It was a pleasure, my dear," Dumbledore assured her, while he to rose, reaching out to gently clasp hands with her. He watched her as he turned to go, puzzling over why she might seem so familiar to him. He'd only met her a little over a month prior, and yet he felt as though he'd known her for _years_. That bafflement was quickly pushed to the back of his mind, however, by a more pressing thought. "If you don't mind my asking, General," he raised an eyebrow if she turned back to look at him. "May I ask after your opinion on our new Defense Professor? Those who reach N.E.W.T. level in her course are, after all, the ones you're most likely to see applying for jobs in your department in a few years."

"Yes," Vivian nodded apparently giving the inquiry some thought before replying. "Off the record… I honestly can't say I approve of Dolores Umbridge herself, so I'm hardly partial enough to judge her teaching methods…but I do have someone looking into them. Good day, Headmaster."

Dumbledore smiled again, offering another nod, "Good day, Vivien," he replied, watching as she disappeared in a burst of green flames.

* * *

There was little need for the Snape's call to order, as a heavy silence had fallen over the classroom the moment their Professor had closed the door. It had been like that for the past four years too, Snape's mere presence was usually enough to ensure a class's silence.

"Before we begin today's lesson," Snape began as he swept over to his desk before gazing out at them all, somehow managing to do so condescendingly. "I think it appropriate to remind you that next June you will be sitting an important examination, during which you will prove how much you've learned about the composition and use of magical potions. Moronic though some of this class undoubtedly are, I expect you to scrape an 'acceptable' in your O.W.L., or suffer my…displeasure." His gaze lingered this time upon Neville, who gulped. "After this year, of course, many of you will cease studying with me," the Potions Master went on. "I take only the very best into my N.E.W.T. Potions class, which means some of you will certainly be saying good-bye." Here his eyes rested on Harry and his lip curled.

Harry didn't bother glaring back, what was the point? He'd gotten very little sleep the night before, so he was utterly exhausted now. Furthermore, he _knew_ he _had_ to make it into Snape's N.E.W.T. class, if he wanted to be an Auror, so the news meant next to nothing to him.

His lack of reaction rather obviously puzzled the Professor, almost as much as it worried his already concerned friends, who'd been watching him anxiously the entire morning. Nonetheless, the Potions Master shrugged his surprise off, continuing his speech as though nothing had happened, therein demonstrating why he was the Head of Slytherin House.

"But we have another year to go before that happy moment of farewell," the House Head murmured softly, "so whether you are intending to attempt N.E.W.T. or not, I advise all of you to concentrate your efforts upon maintaining the high-pass level I've come to expect from my O.W.L. students…. Today we will be mixing a potion that often comes up at Ordinary Wizarding Level: _the Draught of Peace_, a potion to calm anxiety and soothe agitation. Be warned; If you are too heavy-handed with the ingredients you will put the drinker into a heavy and sometimes irreversible sleep, so you will need to pay close attention to what you are doing."

On Harry's left, Hermione sat up a little straighter, her expression one of the utmost attentiveness. If he'd had a little more energy and felt a little less homesick, he didn't doubt this'd amuse him.

Snape flicked his wand toward the board at the front of the classroom, and a long list of instructions appeared there. "The ingredients and method are on the black board. You will find everything you need," he flicked his wand again, and the door of the cupboard in the back of the room sprung open, "in the store cupboard. You have an hour and a half…Begin."

Ron and Hermione had been speculating about what this class would be like through breakfast, and, as it turned out, many of their speculations had come to pass. Snape could hardly have set them a more difficult, nitpicky potion. The ingredients had to be added to the cauldron in precisely the right order and quantities. The mixture had to be stirred unerringly the precise number of times, first in clockwise, then in counterclockwise directions. And the temperature of the flames on which it was simmering had to be lowered to exactly the right level for a specific number of minutes before the final ingredient was added.

But that wasn't what bothered Harry about this. No, he'd made this potion before. He'd made it under his sister's careful instruction, over the summer, in her potions' lab back at the Manor. True, it had been much easier under her fond gaze, compared to Snape's probing glare, but he knew how to work his way through it. Just follow the instructions.

* * *

**_Flashback

* * *

_**

_"Get everything ready before you start, that way you don't have to worry about finding anything while you're making the potion." Vivian told him as she helped him set up the materials. After that she opened the Potions Book they'd been studying the day before, and after a few moments of searching, seemed to find the page she wanted. She set the book before them, opened up to the instructions for the **Brewing of the Draught of Peace**. "Now read through them," she told him, whacking his hand lightly when he reached for the first of the mentioned ingredients. "No, don't start. Just read through the instructions, we have time."_

_After he'd read all four pages worth of instructions he looked to her for further coaching. She handed him a Muggle notebook and an erasable pen. _

_"Now plan your course of action." At his bewildered look, she smiled, nodding to the notebook. "Write the instructions down, step by step. You might want to set it up like a checklist, so that you don't miss anything."_

_He was still somewhat confused, but he complied nonetheless. By the time he'd finished a few minutes later, he found that the twenty steps that book had given him had in some way become eighty._

_"Ok, now you can start." The Auror told him. "Take it slowly. It's better to take your time and come up with a good potion then to rush yourself and botch the project part way through…."

* * *

_

**_End Flashback

* * *

_**

Harry sighed, shaking his head as he started to brew his draught. Everyone else was on the second step now, while he was staring at his checklist. But he knew that his sister's method worked, so he ignored them in favor of beginning his potion.

This potion was remarkably complex, and picky, for class work on the first day of school. But then again, Snape was the teacher.

Aside from the homesickness, he had one other problem. It was a little disconcerting, to work under another's scrutiny. He was used to working with Snape glaring at him, but knowing that there was an Auror in close proximity didn't help much. Even if it _was_ Riatanya Willow.

Sometime later, Harry was pretty sure there was only a few minutes of class left, Snape spoke again. "A silver vapor should be rising from your potion."

Harry frowned as he looked around the classroom. He knew he wasn't done yet, as he'd started a few minutes after everyone else, but Hermione appeared to be the only one in the room with a successful draught!

Ron's was spitting green sparks, Seamus was feverishly prodding the flames at the base of his cauldron with the tip of his wand, as they had gone out, Crabbe and Goyle were going to have a hell of a time getting theirs into a flagon, as it their cauldrons looked like they were full of a gluey substance, and most of the potions in the room were releasing seemingly unending waves of dark gray smoke.

If Malfoy were here, the surface of his potion would probably look like Hermione's, with a shimmering mist of silver vapor. But the Slytherin wasn't present, just like he hadn't been present the night before or this morning at breakfast. If rumors were true, he hadn't even come to school!

As Snape swept around the room he looked down his nose at Hermione's potion without comment, which meant he could find nothing to criticize. But he did stop at Harry's cauldron, raising an eyebrow. "Having trouble, are we, Potter?"

"No, sir."

"I beg your pardon?"

"It's not done yet, I started late." The Gryffindor told him in quite, measure tones.

"Oh really?" the Potions Master scoffed. "Think you're so much better then everyone else that you can get away with that even after all your time here, Potter? Surely you know by now that late work is not applicable?"

"There's still five minutes of class left, sir." Harry told him, eyeing the clock above the door.

"Indeed," Snape sneered, before turning his back on Gryffindor's Golden Boy. "Those of you who _have_ managed to read the instructions, fill one flagon with a sample of your potion, label it clearly with your name, and bring it up to my desk for testing," he ordered, while making his way up to his desk.

He didn't offer any recognition when a silver mist appeared over the surface of Harry's potion, signaling its completion. But then again, Harry hadn't expected him to.

"Homework: twelve inches of parchment on the properties of moonstone and its use in potion-making, to be handed in on Thursday."

* * *

Vivian sighed as she stepped onto the elevator that would bring her to her sectors headquarters, where her office resided. She dearly hoped that nothing important came up this morning. She wanted nothing more then to lock her office door and take a nice long nap on the couch that resided within, for that very reason. She doubted that her aspiration would be satisfied, though. She'd been the Head of the _Primara Sector_ long enough to know that when she really _wanted_ to put her feet up, there would always be at least one antagonism there to get on her nerves.

Her weary acceptance of this as a blatant fact was proven to her, as she stepped out of the elevator, onto the soft white carpet that adorned the headquarters' floor. All but two of her 'secretaries' -- as many in the Department had come to jokingly call them, for it was one of the roles they played here, certainly -- were hard at work. Ria was watching Harry, as she would be until around six o'clock this evening, when she would switch off with Eric, who was probably reviewing the 'Mummy Market' file.

The team assigned to the 'black market' case had traced them to a few Pureblood families, but only two of the said families were British. Most of them were citizens of other counties, so they weren't under their jurisdiction. They could certainly pass the information along, but there really wasn't much point in that case. If the number of mummies found in London continued to increase, they'd probably have to take it to the international level, which was always aggravating and tiring, but was at times necessary. At the moment though, they could probably scare the other families off a little, by going after the two British 'members'. Of course, one of them was an agent of theirs, so they'd leave him alone as long as possible, which wasn't hard, considering how well he covered his trail. He had to, after all. But the head of the Goyle family had not been so cautious.

Everyone in her sector was taught to never under estimate their opponents, for doing so could be your downfall. And they did know that Goyle wasn't _quite_ as dim as he seemed. Obviously, if he were he wouldn't have been able to talk his way out of Azkaban…Of course, that was probably why his lawyer was able to get him off. It was easy to believe that someone as dense as everyone believed Goyle to be, could easily be controlled by the Imperious curse. Then again, his family did have to the money to pay for the high-class attorney that represented him, and the lawyer may have been the one responsible for the well-told story.

The only other person absent was Catherine Dearborn, who was Ria's equal in rank, and therefore the two witches shared the rank of the sectors second in command. General Dearborn had been the one to bring about that situation. A little over a year ago, it had been up for debate. But in the end, Vivian had been willing to follow her advices and have two seconds. She'd thought that, as Ria had earned her rank, just as everyone else had, it was only fair that she be recognized for it.

It was amazing how long ago that day when General Willow has accepted the rank seemed, when it was actually only a year past. But there was no need to talk of that now. There hadn't been an incident of it since then. Well, aside from the Minister's objection, but she hadn't really cared about his opinion then any more then she did now.

Now however, any such debate was hardly possible, as Dearborn was currently on a much-deserved vacation. Which led to her wondering why Cornelius Fudge was presently in her office. He didn't like to pay social calls on her sector, the people didn't like him any more then she did, and they were obviously better at what they did then the people who were loyal to the Minister.

But there was no doubt he was calling. The five guards gathered around her office door were five of 'the Elite', supposedly the Ministry's best Aurors, who were duty-bound to protect the Minister at all costs. There were six members in the Elite, so the other one was probably in her office with the Minister himself…

"_Anything interesting today, Henri?_" she inquired, easily slipping into French as she stopped alongside the colonel's elegant desk, giving him time to look up and see her quick glance towards the Elite Aurors, who were standing stoically in front of her door.

* * *

[AN: I was too lazy to translate. All of the English dialogue in italics is in French.]

* * *

The Beauxbatons' graduate of 1982 shook his head, his hazel eyes amused. "_No, not really. Two new mummies today, they're are driving Bonham mad, but other then that it's been a rather dull morning._" He shook his head, his shoulder-length pale-brown hair emphasizing the motion. "_The stiff necks showed up a little over an hour ago. His majesty was pestering the Captains for awhile, but he gave up and decided to wait in your office a little over a half hour ago._"

"_They've been standing there for a half an hour?_" Vivian inquired, raising an amused eyebrow. 'The stiff necks' was one of the many nicknames had come up with for the Elite. It wasn't a group they had much respect for. After all, all they did was vow to protect an idiot, which earned them high salaries and iniquitous tax-cuts.

The colonel nodded, "Oui."

"Merci," the General nodded to him before moving on towards her office. She raised an eyebrow at the middle-aged man that appeared to be in charge when they didn't immediately move. "May I help you?"

"Name and rank." The wizard ordered, disdainfully.

"I am General Vivien Potier, and you," she paused to glance at his robes. "_Captain_, are currently standing in front of the door to _my_ office. Unless you wish to find yourself in a court marshal for insubordination, I suggest you either explain yourself or, preferably, _move_."

The Elite Captain glared at her in reply, "The Minister sent word to you earlier today of his pending arrival."

"Did he really?" the General replied lightly, "I wouldn't know, as I've been on my feet since three o'clock this morning and haven't yet had a chance to check my mail." She continued before he could interrupt her. "In any case, if he wishes to speak with me, and he is in my office, which is the only thing that might explain your improperness, then you might as well move aside. As I'm sure he didn't intend for me to talk to you."

By the time she'd finished, the other Auror's face had paled slightly with suppressed rage, which was also demonstrated by the firm, disproving line of his mouth. Nevertheless, he had enough intelligence to see that she was right, and therefore turned and opened the door before stepping aside. "General Potier to see you, Minister."

Brushing past him pointedly before closing the door, crossing her office, and moving around her desk before sitting down. Only then did she grace the apparently worried Minister with her attention. "You wished to speak with me, Minister?"

Fudge nodded immediately, "Yes, I - uhh - understand, General…that there has been an… increase in--"

"_Dark_ activity, as of late, Minister?" Vivian cut in, not in any sort of mindset to listen to his stuttering. "Yes, there has been; a _significant_ increase."

"Yes, well…uhh… and you are doing something about this, General?"

The Auror raised an eyebrow. "We are doing what we can, Minister, but we can only do so much… If the rest of the Ministry doesn't begin to pick up the slack, I'm afraid we'll have a very ghastly situation on our hands, rather soon."

"But it isn't…that is to say…it's not…"

"_Voldemort?_"

"_Don't say that name!!!_" Fudge ordered, looking around frantically, his eyes wider then usual.

"It may very well be," the witch continued coolly, "all the signs point to it…. And what if it is, Minister Fudge?" she inquired, her tone and expression carefully neutral. "What if Voldemort has returned, and his followers are gathering?"

"I'll look like a _fool!_" the Minister snapped, sweating profusely.

The Boy-Who-Lived's elder sister nodded, "You will…particularly if you're not ready to lead the Wizarding Britain into war…Which, no offense intended, I honestly don't think the Ministry is ready for any sort of war, let alone one of the level that the Dark Lord is capable of bringing."

Now the older wizard appeared to be on the edge of panic. "Well, no…of course we're not! We've only just recovered from the last war! You weren't _there_, Potier! You can't _possibly_ understand what it was like t--"

"I understand war and combat," Vivian cut in, her tone icy. "And I know, from all of the training and experience that I _do_ have, that such a war is not one we are currently incapable of winning." She raised an eyebrow, "Safe is always better for you, in the long run, then sorry is."

"Well--Yes, of course it is!" the Minister nodded, agreeing fervently. "Of course…but where to begin…"

"_Well_," Vivian drawled, her voice still -- almost surprisingly -- neutral. "I can think of a number of things."

"Such as?"

"Make amends with Professor Dumbledore. If it comes down to a real war, you will _need_ his support."

"Yes…yes, of course…"

"Secondly, the case of Sirius Black must be properly addressed. It doesn't do you any real favors to ignore it, Minister. Just get it over with and be done with it. It may earn you some less then pleasant publicity, but procrastinating will only make it worse in the long run."

"B-But…he…he…"

"Is an _innocent_ man, Minister. He was _unjustly_ incarcerated for _thirteen_ bloody years, and the Ministry therefore owes him far more then an apology, but that is nonetheless, the place to start."

"Yes…I suppose so…I--"

"And finally," Vivian cut in with a sigh, "for the moment at least. There is the matter of _Professor_ Umbridge," she finished, her tone now taking on the slightest hint of distaste."

"…Dolores?"

"Yes," Vivian nodded, "how, pray tell, do you justify a _secretary_, someone with no combative experience _or_ degrees in defense, teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts?"

"Well, sh-she…" Fudge stopped, somehow gaining the never to risk a slight glare at her, "I really don't see how that is any of your concern."

The General raised an eyebrow, "Oh, I assure you, it _is_ my concern. Defense training is an absolutely essential part of the preliminary education of all my employees. We've had enough trouble, as it is, over the past few years, with the Hogwarts graduates, thanks to how disjointed their education has been. But all five of those teachers supposedly had some experience with the field, Quirrell had been teaching it for years, with a degree, and had even gone on sabbatical to gain field experience. Lockhart was supposedly a civilian-Auror of sorts, and even if he _didn't_ do any of the things he'd written about his books, which he didn't," she held up a hand to stop the Minister's protests, "we'd been researching him for fraud for several years. He'd still spent many years researching it. And his, though rather ostentatious, still contained some facts." Again, she offered a brief pause, before continuing. "Remus Lupin was known for a great deal of fieldwork, and he does have a master's degree in Defense and Care of Magical Creatures. And of course, we didn't know that Crouch's son was impersonating Moody, so he was hired on Moody's experience and repertoire…" she paused for a moment to glance at the guard standing in the corner, but she couldn't see the Major's face. "But Dolores Umbridge does not have a master's degree in anything, nor is she trying to receive one, and she can't claim the position on empirical value. The only experience she has is that of a secretary …"

"Well… yes… I suppose…But Dumbledore couldn't find an appropriate candidate…"

"So you _forced_ him to take on someone inappropriate candidate of your choosing?"

"Yes -- no! No…we just…"

"And what's with this 'Hogwarts High Inquisitor' bit?"

The Minister started, his eyes widening rapidly, "What…H-How do you know about that?"

"I'm very good at my job, as is everyone who works for me. Very little occurs that we _don't_ know about…and even less when it's documented."

"Well… yes… We thought that it'd be a good idea to make sure that the Hogwarts Professors are teaching appropriate material, and that they…"

"Haven't lost their touch?" Vivian suggested with a raised eyebrow as he trailed off. "No, it's a good idea. As I said before, we've had problems with how moderately educated many of the recent Hogwarts graduates have been these last few years…this _could_ put a stop to that." She gave him a moment to realize that she'd actually agreed with him, before continuing. "So whom are you offering that job to?"

"Uhh, well… That has yet to be decided…"

"Oh? Can't find someone who's qualified?"

"Yes… I don't suppose that you might…?"

Vivian remained silent for a few moments before nodding. "Yes… a team of 'Hogwarts Inquisitors' would probably be best; a few people who are qualified to handle different subjects, that way, if they _need_ to get rid of a teacher, there will still be someone there to teach… If you wouldn't mind, my department would be happy to handle this. I do, after all, have most of the master's of Great Britain in my employ."

"A-Alright, yes, I suppose so… that is if you wouldn't mind…"

"Oh, not at all," the Auror General assured him. They sat in silence for nearly a minute, before Vivian broke it once again. "Was there anything else, Minister?"

"N-No, not at all…"

"Then I don't mean to be rude, but I've had a very long day, and I still have a bit of work to do…"

"Oh, yes… Yes, of course." He rose, offering her his hand as she also rose. "Thank you for your time, General. I trust you will be looking into the…increase in Dark activity?"

"Of course," Vivian nodded, taking his hand and shaking it firmly, but not releasing it afterwards. "I do hope to see something in the Prophet tomorrow about Mr. Black's newfound freedom and whatnot…And I will have a document on the 'Hogwarts Inquisitor Squad' ready for your signature to you by tomorrow afternoon."

"Yes, of course, thank you, General."

"Good afternoon, Minister," she nodded to him and his guard as they left her office. She sat down after the door closed, bringer her hands up to massage her temples as she heard Fudge's assembly leaving outside. She didn't look up right away when the door opened a few minutes later, instead choosing to see whom it was after they'd closed the door. Which was probably a good idea, because that way, if she lost it, fewer people would hear…

"_So, how'd it go?_" Colonel Vasser inquired lightly, his hazel eyes far too cheery, in her opinion.

Vivian closed her eyes and leaned back in her chair with a soft, exasperated sigh. "_As well as can be expected, I suppose. That was Cornelius Fudge, after all._"

"Oui, _it was,_" the Colonel.

The witch didn't open her eyes before asking, "_What do you want, Henri?_"

"_I can't come in for a bit of interesting conversation._"

Now, she did open her eyes, to glare at him half-heartedly.

"_Oh, very well,_" the Beauxbatons' graduate of 1982 sighed. "_I just thought that you might like to know that Eric and Ria should have switched a few minutes ago…_"

"_Have I really been **that** transparent?_"

Henri shook his head, as he rose to his feet, bowing slightly. "_By comparison to most, certainly not. For you, _oui,_ it's obvious you're fond of the boy…_"

She called out to stop him before he reached the door. "Merci, Henri. _Please tell Ria to come report to me at the Manor when she arrives…I'll be taking a much needed rest._"

"_Very good idea, General,_" the Frenchman approved, bowing again before stepping out of her office and closing the door behind him.

After a few moments of listening to the stillness, she rose to her feet, groaning as many muscles protested the action. The Auror made her way over the fireplace, tossing some Floo powder in, before stepping into the flames and sighing; "_Potter Manor_…"

* * *

Professor Trelawney hadn't improved over the summer, so her class was still a laugh, though the amount of homework she assigned definitely was not. Nonetheless, it was comfortable. It was a known… Harry knew what to expected of Sibyl Trelawney, and he was rarely surprised. But he didn't know what to expect of the toad-like witch with the fluffy-pick cardigan that was sitting behind her desk in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom when they arrived.

That would be why everyone was so quiet as they entered the room. No one knew if she was another Binns, another McGonagall, another Snape, or something entirely different. Therefore, no one wanted to take any chances, not yet, at least…__

The witch's wide mouth stretched into smile once everyone in the class had taken their seat. _"Well, good afternoon!" _She frowned at the half-hearted response she received."Tut, tut!_That_ won't do, now, will it? I should like you, please, to reply 'Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge.' One more time, please. Good afternoon, class!"

Harry wasn't the only one to roll his eyes at this, but he chanted back at her with the others, nonetheless. "Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge."__

"There, now," Professor Umbridge replied sweetly in her incredibly girlish voice. "That wasn't too difficult, was it? Wands away and quills out, please."

This, of course, resulted in the exchanging of a number of gloomy looks. DADA tended to be their favorite course, as a class. Some excelled in different areas, but as a whole, DADA was where they came together. But they'd never liked any DADA lesson that started with the order; 'wands away'. As that particular command had never been followed by a lesson they found interesting.

While they'd been following the order, Professor Umbridge had opened her own handbag. She'd them extracted her own, rather short wand, and tapped the blackboard sharply with it. Immediately, the board presented them with the words:

* * *

**_Defense Against the Dark Arts_**

**_A Return to Basic Principles

* * *

_**

After giving them a few moments, which were filled with the sounds of quills scratching on parchment, Professor Umbridge turned to face the class, her hands clasped neatly in front of her. "Well now, your teaching in this subject has been rather disrupted and fragmented, hasn't it? The constant changing of teachers, many of whom do not seem to have followed any Ministry-approved curriculum, has unfortunately resulted in your being far below the standard we would expect to see in your O.W.L. year…. You will be pleased to know, however, that these problems are now to be rectified. We will be following a carefully structured, theory-centered, Ministry-approved course of defensive magic this year. Copy down the following, please." She struck the blackboard with her wand again, and the first message vanished, to be replaced by:

* * *

__

**_Course aims:_**

**_1. Understanding the principles underlying defensive magic._**

**_2. Learning to recognize situations in which defensive magic can legally be used._**

**_3. Placing the use of defensive magic in context for practical use.

* * *

_**__

This time, Professor Umbridge gave them a little over a minute to duplicate the words; only speaking once everyone had copied her three course aims. "Has everybody got a copy of Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Sinclair?" She frowned, once again, at the uninterested, yet confirmative mumble the class offered. "I think we'll try that again! When I ask you a question, I should like you to reply 'Yes, Professor Umbridge,' or 'No, Professor Umbridge.' So, has everyone got a copy of Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Sinclair?"

"Yes, Professor Umbridge," the class called back at her.

"Good," the Professor nodded her approval, offering another strangely wide smile. "I should like you to turn to page five and read chapter one, 'Basics for Beginners.' There will be no need to talk." With that, she left the blackboard and settled herself in the chair behind the teacher's desk, monitoring them all closely with those pouchy toad's eyes.

Harry had never thought that any class could prove to be more mind-numbingly boring then History of Magic. But Sinclair 's Defensive Magical Theory made Professor Binns sound utterly riveting. It wasn't long before He felt his concentration starting to slip. He was forced to admit that it _had_ slipped when he found himself reading the same line several times without comprehension.

It might not have been so bad if they'd been allowed to talk. Working in groups always made projects at least a little interesting. But they'd been ordered to silence, so it took him only a few short, silent moments to start looking around for something worthy of his attention.

Next to him, Ron was absentmindedly turning his quill over and over in his fingers, staring at the same spot on the page. Evidently, he wasn't engrossed in the dry primer then Harry was. But it was what he saw when he looked to his right that gave him a real shock; a shock great enough to force the foggy cloud of boredom from his mind.

Hermione had not even opened her copy of Defensive Magical Theory. She was staring fixedly at Professor Umbridge with her hand in the air.

Had it been anyone else, Harry knew that it would've merited interest, but this was _Hermione!_ He couldn't recall Hermione _ever_ neglecting to read when instructed to, or even resisting the temptation to open any book that came under her nose.

She met his silent inquiry with a barely noticeable headshake. Apparently she wasn't about to answer questions, and continued to stare at Professor Umbridge, who was looking just as resolutely in another direction.

After several more minutes had passed, however, Harry wasn't the only one watching Hermione. The chapter that they had been instructed to read was so tedious that more and more people were choosing to watch Hermione's mute endeavor to catch Professor Umbridge's eye than struggle on with 'Basics for Beginners.'

Finally, when more then half the class was staring at Hermione rather than at their books, Professor Umbridge gave in, apparently deciding that she couldn't 'overlook' the situation any longer. "Did you want to ask something about the chapter, dear?" she asked Hermione, as though she had only just noticed her.

"Not about the chapter, no," Hermione replied immediately, finally lowering her hand.

"Well, we're _reading_ just now," said Professor Umbridge, showing her small, pointed teeth. "If you have other queries we can deal with them at the end of class."

"I read it over the summer," the younger witch told her. "And I've got a query about your course aims."

Professor Umbridge raised her eyebrows. "And your name is--?"

"Hermione Granger," said Hermione.

"Well, Miss Granger, I think the course aims are perfectly clear if you read them through carefully," said Professor Umbridge in a voice of determined sweetness.

"Well, I don't," Hermione replied, rather bluntly, considering the situation. She was usually very respectful towards teachers. "There's nothing written up there about _using_ defensive spells."

A heavy silence hung over the room, during which many members of the class turned to frown at the three course aims still written on the blackboard, before turning back to watch the interaction between teacher and student.

"_Using_ defensive spells?" Professor Umbridge repeated with a little laugh. "Why, I can't imagine any situation arising in my classroom that would require you to _use_ a defensive spell, Miss Granger. You surely aren't expecting to be attacked during class?"

"We're not going to use any magic?" Ron demanded loudly.

"Students raise their hands when they wish to speak in my class, Mr. --?"

"Weasley," said Ron, thrusting his hand up into the air.

Professor Umbridge, smiling still more widely, turned her back on him.

Harry and Hermione didn't even look at each other; instead choosing to raise their hands immediately.

The Professor's eyes lingered on Harry for a moment before she addressed Hermione. "Yes, Miss Granger? You wanted to ask something else?"

"Yes," said Hermione. "Surely the whole point of Defense Against the Dark Arts is to practice defensive spells?"

"Are you a Ministry-trained educational expert, Miss Granger?" asked Professor Umbridge in her falsely sweet voice.

"No, but--"

"Well then, I'm afraid you're not qualified to decide what the 'whole point' of any class is. Wizards much older and clever than you have devised our new program of study. You will be learning about defensive spells in secure, risk-free way--"

"What use is that?" Harry inquired quickly, a bit more loudly than he'd intended. "If we're going to be attacked--"

"_Hand_, Mr. Potter!" Professor Umbridge sang. By the time his hand was in the air, the DADA instructor had already turned away from him again, but now several people had their hands up too. "And your name is?" Professor Umbridge inquired of Dean.

"Dean Thomas."

"Well, Mr. Thomas?"

"Well, it's like Harry said, isn't it?" said Dean. "If we're going to be attacked, it won't be risk-free--"

"I _repeat_," said Professor Umbridge, smiling in a very irritating fashion at Dean, "do you expect to be attacked in my classes?"

"No, but--"

Professor Umbridge talked over him. "I do not wish to criticize the way things have been run in this school," she said, an unconvincing smile stretching her wide mouth, "but you have been exposed to some very irresponsible wizards in this class, very irresponsible indeed -- not to mention," she gave a nasty little laugh, "extremely _dangerous_ half-breeds."

"If you mean Professor Lupin," piped up Dean Thomas angrily, "he was the best we ever--"

"_Hand_, Mr. Thomas! As I was saying -- you have been introduced to spells that have been complex, inappropriate to your age group, and potentially lethal. You have been frightened into believing that you are likely to meet Dark attacks every other day--"

"No we haven't," Hermione said, "we just--"

"_Your hand is not up, Miss Granger!_"

Hermione put up her hand; Professor Umbridge turned away from her.

"It is my understanding that my predecessor not only performed illegal curses in front of you, he actually performed them _on_ you--"

"Well, he turned out to be a Death Eater, didn't he?" said Dean Thomas hotly. "Mind you, we still learned loads--"

"**_Your hand is not up, Mr. Thomas!_**" Professor Umbridge trilled. "Now, it is the view of the Ministry that a theoretical knowledge will be more than sufficient to get you through your examination, which, after all, is what school is all about. And your name is?" she added, staring straight at Parvati, whose hand had just shot up.

"Parvati Patil, and isn't their a practiced bit in our Defense Against the Dark Arts O.W.L.? Aren't we supposed to show that we can actually do the counter-curses and things?"

"As long as you have studied the theory hard enough, there is no reason why you should not be able to perform the spells under carefully controlled examination conditions," Professor Umbridge replied, her tone more then a little dismissive.

"Without ever practicing them before?" said Parvati incredulously. "Are you telling us that the first time we'll get to go the spells will be during the exam?"

"I repeat, as long as you have studied the theory hard enough--"

"And what good's theory going to be in the real world?" Harry demanded, fighting to keep his voice level as he held his hand in the air.

Professor Umbridge looked up, staring at him a moment, before softly replying; "This is school, Mr. Potter, not the real world."

"So we're not supposed to be prepared for what's waiting out there?"

"There is nothing waiting out there, Mr. Potter."

"Oh yeah?" Harry glowered, fighting to keep his temper under control. He'd been told that his mother's famous temper had rivaled the Weasleys, and his father's hadn't been far behind. Now a teenager, thrown into a suppressive world, the combination of both was coming out full force as it neared its boiling point.

"Who do you imagine wants to attack children like yourselves?" Professor Umbridge inquired in a horribly honeyed voice.

"Hmm, let's think," Harry replied in a mock-thoughtful voice, "maybe _Lord Voldemort?_"

His classmates resulting reactions were nearly comical. Ron's gasp was almost hidden by Lavender Brown's small scream, while Neville slipped sideways off his stool.

The Defense teacher, however, did not flinch. She was staring at him with a grimly satisfied expression on her face. "Ten points from Gryffindor, Mr. Potter."

The classroom was silent and still, as everyone was staring at either Umbridge or Harry.

"Now let me make some things quite plain." Professor Umbridge stood up and leaned toward them, her stubby-fingered hands splayed on her desk. "You have been told that a certain Dark wizard has returned from the dead, and is at large once again. _This is a lie._"

"It is _not_ a lie!" Harry protested, reddening in anger. "I saw him, I fought him!"

"Detention, Mr. Potter!" Professor Umbridge said triumphantly. "This evening, at five o'clock in my office. I repeat, _this** is **a lie_. The Ministry of Magic guarantees that you are not in danger from any Dark wizard. If you are still worried, by all means come and see me outside class hours. If someone is alarming you with fibs about reborn Dark wizards, I would like to hear about it. I am here to help. I am your friend. And now, you will kindly continue reading. Page five, 'Basics for Beginners.'" She instructed, before sitting down once again.

By the time, Harry's common sense had left him, and had it not been for an unseen, restraining hand on his shoulder, he probably would've made things worse for himself. As it was, Ria obviously wasn't going to let him do anything stupid, so he was forced to sit through the last ten minutes of class in glowering silence, never once touching the book on his desk.

* * *

"Is that all, then?" Vivian inquired quietly, before finishing her second cup of tea.

"It took some effort, but I managed to keep him from getting into anymore trouble, for the moment anyhow… Erik's watching him now."

The General nodded, "Thank you…" she was silent for nearly a minute before she sighed. "Of all the things Fudge could come up with…"

"This won't help us," Ria agreed.

"Not at all," Vivian shook her head. "We've had enough trouble in bringing the new additions to our department up to par as it is, in previous years… If they're planning on not teaching them _any_ defense deliberately, we may need to have the new recruits in training for years…"

The blonde nodding, watching her raven-haired commander unhappily, "To make up for all the training they never received." Another silence, this time several moments longer, hung over them, before she continued. "They're starting to suspect, you know."

"Whom? And what?"

"The other commanding officers, and some of the senior seconds. They're starting to suspect your relationship with Harry."

"Good," the Auror General nodded. "I expect nothing less from them…." she paused, thinking over her next words as she finished prepping her third teacup. "I suppose I should hold a meeting before long then."

"When?"

"An hour or two, a meeting at the Manor, I suppose. What'd you think?"

"Bonham's still on duty."

Vivian nodded, "Would you send him over for breakfast when you switch?"

"Gladly."

"Was he all right?"

"Harry?" the four-star General inquired, before continuing at her commander-in-chief's nod. "He seemed to be in good health. Just needed time to cool down. He should be out of detention by now."

The Auror chuckled softly, though her voice held no amusement when she spoke. "I doubt that went well."

"No," the other agreed.

Vivian took another long sip of tea, then looked up at a knock on the door. "Yes?"

The door opened and then Captain Vindictus stepped in. "Sorry to disturb you, Generals."

"Not at all, Captain." Vivian waved the apology off. "How is Mr. Pettigrew?"

The Slytherin-alumni shook her head. "He's _still_ talking to himself, something about the Potters and the Dark Lord…amongst plenty of inane babble."

"Perhaps one of the healer's should look in on him, then," the General sighed. "We can't have his defense rep. saying we were deleterious to his health or some such nonsense." After a moment, she nodded. "I'll send word to Rebecca…Would you tell the others that I'd like to meet with all of you at the Manor this evening? Around eleven."

Any surprise the Captain might have felt was circumspectly veiled with practiced ease. "Of course, General."

"Thank you," Vivian nodded to her again, watching as the captain left, closing the door behind her without a sound.

"You should probably remove yourself from his case."

"I should, shouldn't I?"

Ria nodded, "If your…_identity_ comes out before his trial, it could cause some trouble."

"His trial is tomorrow afternoon, anyhow," the General shrugged, "But that would be why I passed the case over to you yesterday afternoon. The file is complete; you just need to see its conveyance to court. Catherine will take over for you at noon tomorrow, during lunch."

"Very wel--" the blonde paused, frowning as both turned to watch one of the crystal globes on Vivian's desk light up.

A white flame had bloomed in the center of the globe, after a moment, it began to take on many different shades of numerous colors, before taking the form of a miniature person dressed in and made of multi-colored flames. The quiet voice, which seemed to be made up of many voices, that echoed respectfully from the globe wasn't one the two generals were unused to hearing. "_Master Erik Bonham requests a word with you, Mistress…_"

Vivian nodded without hesitation. "I accept the call."

"_Very well... Mistress..._" the figure collapsed into multi-colored flames, which, moments later, held a small projection of the captain himself.

"_Good evening, General Potier, General Willow._"

Both nodded in reply, but it was Vivian who spoke. "Good evening, Captain. I assume this is important?"

"_Maybe not,_" the Captain shrugged, looking somewhat sheepish. "_But I thought that you might like to know that Mr. Potter doesn't appear to be sleeping well…_"

Vivian frowned, "_A vision?_"

"_I've never seen one before, but…_" the wizard shrugged again, "_it looks a lot like Skeeter described in her article last year. If he was awake, he'd probably be screaming._"

"He's not?"

"_No, he's just whimpering right now, but I doubt that'll last long…_"

"I'm coming over," Vivian told him, "Potier, out."

"_Yes, ma'am,_" the captain bowed. A flash later his likeness was gone, and the crystal ball went dark as the flames went out.

Vivian sighed as she rose to her feet, and Ria shook her head sympathetically, "Looks like you'll be pulling another all-nighter. Want an extra hand?"

"No," the General shook her head, "thank you, but you really should get some rest. We don't want you falling asleep on the job."

"Right," the lesser General nodded, rising. "I'll be switching with Eric at six, right?"

* * *

_"Are we going back to the hotel now, Daddy?" a young blonde girl, who couldn't have been more then eight years old, inquired of you middle-aged man she was holding hands with._

_"Yes, sweetheart." He replied pleasantly, exchanging a look with his wife, who was carrying a sleeping three-year-old boy. "Don't worry, it's only a few more blocks…"_

_Harry flinched as he watched a group of Muggle tourists near the Death Eaters. In didn't take a genius to decipher that the poor family of four were unwittingly approaching their doom…_

_"Can I help you?" The man inquired, blinking as two dark-robed figures stepped in front of them._

_When both figures remained silent, as though waiting for something, the group became nervous. Upon closer inspection, both men were dressed in dark black robes, their faces were hidden by white masks, akin to those grim-reaper masks children often wore on Halloween, and both held long wooden sticks in their hands. _

_When he looked around for an escape route, Harry noted that the man wasn't surprised when he found that they'd been surrounded by a slightly larger group of similarly dressed figures. _

_"Listen," the man began nervously, "We don't have much money, but--"_

_"We don't want your money, fool Muggle." The taller of the two cut him off, his voice icy._

_"T-then…Wh-what do you want?!" the man demanded, "Please, just let us go. We don't mean any trouble!"_

_The Death Eaters laughed._

_"Let you go?" the groups' leader laughed, "I think not. **Crucio!**"_

_The man's wife began screaming as her husband fell to the pavement, writhing in agony. Her scream, combined with the screams of both her children -- one of whom was clinging to her skirt, the other to her neck -- were nothing compared to her husband's tortured screams. _

_This wasn't right… _

_It had to stop…_

_Someone had to stop it…_

_'Stop it!' Harry thought, writhing as the Muggle man's agony echoed around him. _

_Why would he even be seeing this, anyhow? He didn't see Voldemort anywhere, and he wasn't watching through the Dark Lord's eyes… So why was he seeing it? _

_He didn't want to see it!_

_It wasn't right!_

_"Stop it!"_

_**Harry!** A familiar voice called him, **Wake up! Harry!** _

_"**Avada Kedavra!**" another Death Eater called, pointing at the woman, whose screams of terror augmented as the wave of green light neared her._

_But the killing curse didn't hit her. Instead, it hit the small child she was carrying, who instantly went cold in her arms, an expression of sheer terror frozen on his face._

_"Ethan!" she cried, shaking her son even as her husband went on screaming. "**Ethan!!!**"_

_"STOP IT!" Harry cried, as the pain intensified, and the Death Eater's laughter echoing around them._

_He didn't want to see anymore…_

_He didn't want to see any of this!_

_Each moment was much worse than its predecessor, full of pain, humiliation, and torment. _

_**"Wake up, Harry! You have to wake up!"** Another familiar voice broke through the pain. This one was different from the earlier one, though. It was backed by more power then the last. Plus, this was a woman's voice; the previous one had been a boy's. "**Ennervate!"** _

_And finally the scene faded, as he was pulled back into the waking world._

* * *

"Miss Potier?" To say Professor McGonagall was surprised would be a severe understatement. It was ten o'clock in the evening, after all.

"Good evening, Professor McGonagall." Vivian nodded to the older witch. "I apologize for the late hour. But Captain Bonham tells me his charge isn't doing very well. May I come in?"

"Harry?" the Professor's eyes widened, while worry seeped into her voice. "Oh, yes, of course! Come in, come in."

"Would you mind showing me the way to Gryffindor Tower?" Vivian inquired, "I'm afraid I don't know the way."

"Of course," the Head of the Gryffindor House replied, turning and quickly leading the way to one of the many doorways that opened into the entrance hall. "It's right this way."

As they hurriedly made their way through the echoing corridors, the Auror finally decided to comment on the Professor's attire. "Up awful late, aren't you, Professor? I wouldn't think you'd have much work to do after the first day of classes."

"I was getting a head start on their summer work."

"Ahh," Vivian nodded, "that's probably a good idea."

"Yes," the Transfiguration Professor agreed, also nodding. "I've always found that it's best not to put these things off." She finished, as they finished mounting the proper staircase. She probably should've been surprised that the staircases were so accommodating, but then again, the castle probably knew where they were going.

"Indeed," the Auror smiled slightly, while looking around her appreciatively. "Are we almost there?"

"Yes, it's just around--" the Professor stopped short as pained screams echoed through the hallway.

"_Harry!_" they both gasped, dashing around the next corner and making their way to the end of it.

The portrait swung open just in time for them to run through it, as the Gryffindor House Head gasped the password out. Once inside, she turned to the right. "This way!"

Vivian really didn't need the direction, the screams were, after all, coming from that side of the Tower, but she was far too worried to say anything.

"Harry!" They burst into one of the fifth year boys' dormitories, to see all but one of its occupants awake, much like the other boys out on the staircase. Ron Weasley was currently leaning over Harry's bed, shaking the unconscious boy as he went on screaming. "Wake up! _Harry!_"

Suddenly, Harry's screams augmented. And his cry of; "STOP IT!" made his best friend jump back with a start.

Vivian hurried forward without a second thought, grabbing the teenager much like his friend had a short moment before. "Wake up, Harry! You have to wake up!" She frowned when his screams lessened only slightly, and quickly made up her mind.

The others in the room gave a start as the Auror stepped back slightly, drawing her wand.

"_Ennervate!_" she intoned, performing the precise gestures with swift proficiency, before pointing her twelve inches of dark yew at the boy.

Harry's eyes immediately snapped open, just as his screams suddenly stopped, to the gratitude of the room's occupants. "Wh-What…where…V--?"

"Drink this," Vivian instructed calmly, handing him a clear glass of water, mixed with some potion or another. Even though he didn't bother questioning, she explained while helping him bring it up to his lips. "It'll help with the pain."

He offered a short nod as he finished drinking what was in the class. Then he took the next potion she offered, this one still in its vial, and therefore not even slightly diluted.

"Back to bed, all of you!" they heard Professor McGonagall calling from the stairwell. "It's well past lights out, and you don't want to be tired on your second day of class! To bed, _now!_"

Vivian chuckled quietly, and Harry shook his head to show his amusement as he drank the vial of soothing, minty liquid in one gulp.

He started as Vivian stood once again, he didn't remember when she'd sat down next to him, and began gesturing at one of his pillows. A moment later, it'd been transfigured into a comfortable cushioned stretcher.

"Up you go," was all the warning she gave him, before she levitated him onto it with, "_Wingardium Leviosa._" She quickly covered him with one of his blankets, making sure he was snuggly wrapped up, before levitating the both of them, and leaving the room.

She probably noticed that Professor McGonagall wasn't the only one following them, but she offered no indication of it, as they made their way down to the Common Room. Once there, she let the stretcher rest on the larger couch, and turned it back into a pillow for him to lean back against, with a flick of her wand. Then she turned to look at the three other people in the room.

"I'm sure Mr. Potter will be more than happy to talk to you about this, in the morning," she told Ron and Hermione, her voice gentle, but nonetheless firm. "But both of you really should head up to bed."

"Quite right," Professor McGonagall agreed, shooing them both up separate sets of stairs with a look. Then she turned to Vivian, questioningly.

"If you like, Professor," Vivian began with a soft smile. "I'll look after Mr. Potter this evening. You said you were quite busy…"

"But shouldn't Poppy--"

"Send her up, if you like." The Auror shrugged, "But I have plenty of medical supplies with me. He probably needs sleep right now, more than anything else. I thought it'd be better for her to look him over in the morning."

After a moment, the Gryffindor Head nodded, "Very well, I'll tell her," she looked at Harry, "She'll have breakfast waiting for you there."

"Thank you, Professor," Harry nodded, his voice quiet.

With a nod to both of them, the Transfiguration Professor left at a much more reasonable pace than she'd entered at, stopping to talk to the Fat Lady, as her portrait swung shut.

Vivian turned to Harry, offering a soft smile. "Would you like some tea?"

Harry smiled.

* * *

Everyone stopped talking when the door that led out to the Headmaster's office opened once again, admitting their missing member.

"Ahh, Minerva," Dumbledore offered a warm smile, his gaze curious, "That was fast. Who, pray tell, was visiting at this hour?"

"Viv--General Potier," the Head of Gryffindor House replied, somewhat distractedly. "Apparently Mr. Potter's shadow reported that he wasn't sleeping well, so she came to investigate…"

"Is he all right?" Sirius demanded immediately, beginning to rise from his chair, even as his best friend laid a restraining hand on his arm.

McGonagall sighed, "At the moment, I think. She thought it best to let him get some sleep, and have Poppy look him over in the morning… She's watching him now."

"But doesn't he need something for that? If those visions of his are half as painful as we suspect, he can't very well be expected to fall immediately back to sleep after them."

"She had a number of potions with her, which seemed to help," the Professor shrugged, seemingly unconcerned.

"You let a witch with indefinite loyalty's give the Golden Boy unidentified potions?" Professor Snape inquired, a sardonic eyebrow raised.

The Transfiguration Professor blinked, then frowned, before replying with a sigh. "I suppose it wasn't overly wise, but…" she shook her head, "I really don't think she's Dark. I don't know why…"

"It's just a feeling," Dumbledore nodded after a short silence. "Sometimes we have to trust our instincts, and most of us instinctively trust her…"

"Which in and of itself may be cause for alarm," the Head of Slytherin House offered sourly.

"Perhaps," the Headmaster allowed with a nod. "But, to be frank, I think not…"

After several moments of contemplative silence, Remus offered, "You were saying, Headmaster?"

The aged wizard shook his head, clearly bringing himself back to the present. "Ahh…Yes, we were discussing possible methods for finding Miss Potter, were we not? And what she might be hiding as?"

The others nodded and a second silence fell over them as they went back to think of answers to those two very important questions.

But it wasn't one of the members of the Order that broke the silence this time, it was one of the great School's former Headmasters, who was one of the many that had been watching this meeting, and others, with interest. "Oh, for Merlin's sake, you could at least check the student records!"

Everyone blinked at that. And it took a moment for any of them to think of a reply to that, but eventually the Head of Slytherin House did. "I highly doubt she ever came her as a student."

"Probably not," the portrait shrugged, "but her name should still be on the list of hopefuls, more specifically; one of the ones that didn't attend. The Circle's shroud probably kept her name from showing at the time, so her invitation was never sent, but it's probably there now."

"Yes," Hogwarts current Headmaster nodded, "and that, at the very least, would present us with her given name."

"I'll go see what I can find," McGonagall offered while rising, she was across the room and through the door before any of the others could offer to help. After a moment, she poked her back in slightly, "What year would she be? 84? 85?"

"It might be best to start with one of the earlier years, as we aren't exactly sure," Dumbledore offered, watching her depart.

A little over two minutes later, she returned with several scrolls floating in front of her. She waved her wand, and a few of them went to different Order members all around the room, before she took hold of her own, and returned to her seat.

"I'm not sure all of the 1980's was necessary, Minerva," the Headmaster offered with a chuckle.

His deputy shrugged noncommittally as she unrolled the scroll she'd take, clearly a replica of the original piece, as the parchment was brand-new.

The other nine people who'd received scrolls followed her example, scanning down the lists until they came to the hopefuls with the surnames beginning with 'P', which merited closer attention.

Ironically, the one who found it was probably the one who hated the very name he was looking for more then anything else. His voice was quiet as he drew their attention, "I found her."

When the Potion's Master made no other comment, not looking up from the scroll he was staring at, the Headmaster inquired, "Severus?"

"It seems," Snape murmured in the same quiet, thoughtful tone, "That the class that attended here from 1985 to 1992 should have included a Potter."

"_What's_ _her_ _first_ _name_, damn it!" Sirius Black demanded, clearly loosing his patience with the Slytherin.

"Vivian," the other wizard replied quietly.

Several moments of silence ensued this remark, then Mrs. Weasley broke it with a shrug, "It's a lovely name."

"And it does rhyme with 'Lillian'," Tonks chimed in.

"That it does," Professor Dumbledore agreed, still watching his Potions Professor closely. After a moment of similarly insignificant remarks, he inquired. "Is something wrong, Severus?"

"Hmm?" Finally Professor Snape did look up, his dark eyes speculative. "Oh, no. Not at all. I was just…thinking."

"Of?"

The Potions Master sighed, shaking his head. "Of what idiots we've all been."

"Why?"

Snape didn't reply immediately, instead choosing to ignore his comrades stares in favor of rolling up the parchment and setting it on the table beside his chair, before drawing his wand and waiving it towards the Headmaster's desk, while mutter a spell. Doing so brought a smaller piece of blank parchment to him, which he took, set down on the table and tapped with his wand with a firm, "_Inscripsi Vivian Potter,_" followed by an equally firm, "_Converto dans au Français_." He watched the parchment for a moment, before murmuring a replication spell, to send a copy of it to everyone in the room.

Each member of the Order caught it, and watched dark black ink take the form of letters, which soon became a name, and then two arrows, which linked it to another name, leaving all of them utterly and completely _shocked_.

For what else could the parchment state but;

**_Vivian Potter

* * *

_****_Vivien Potier_** _

* * *

_

End of Chapter 14.

* * *

**Translations****:**

Consanguina - related by blood (Latin)

Umbra Nutrici/Umbrae Nutricius

Primara - in the first rank, distinguished

Primani/Primorum - soldiers of the first legion

Inscripsi Vivian Potter - Write - Vivian Potter

Converto dans au Français - Translate into French

* * *

**Author's Note****: Hi everybody!**

**How was this chapter? Was it worth the _dreadful_ wait? Probably not… I really am sorry about that… I just couldn't seem to finish this chapter! It was terrible!**

**I'll try to update again sooner, but that's really all I can promise…**

**Ooh! I have news too! I'm an aunt now! My niece will be two weeks old in two days! **

**…Umm…That's all for now. **

**Thank you.**

* * *

**Response to Reviewers****:**

**The Last Hope** - …Ummm…no…not really…no…sorry? pouts

nods Yes, yes, not enough time… Mainly because of how much trouble this chapter was giving me… I didn't even include the last two scenes because I couldn't make them work out!

Shakes head Sorry, not telling. There _is_ a reason for that. But that probably won't come up for awhile… Sorry.****

**Rachel A. Prongs** - LOL, yes, it is nice, isn't it?

True, I suppose. Snape isn't that bad…or at least he wasn't before OotP… but he still isn't as bad as Voldemort and Umbridge…

Sorry about the wait.

**Everpresent** - Winces Your welcome… sorry about the wait on this one…

LOL, no she isn't…but that's for later, sorry.

Sigh Yes, I'm afraid I'd under estimated that…

Sorry about the wait.

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I hope you had a nice holiday too… Was it really that long ago?

Sigh No, V-Star isn't working on this one either… But then again, we haven't made much progress with LS either… It's irritating. There's only a few chapters left, and we haven't been able to finish it! L

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I once again apologize for the wait…

**Ananova** - Thank you…

Yes.

Probably.

Blinks …wow…Someone actually _noticed_ that… Sorry, can't tell you that…

Sorry about the wait… I really didn't mean to leave you guys hanging this long.

* * *

**Thanks to****: **

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**Bye! **

**Jess S**


	16. Idiots, Graves, More Idiots & Grave News

Disclaimer: I own the plot, I apologize if it's been done before. Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.  
AN: Hi! Real AN at the end! Enjoy!

* * *

**Consanguina **

**By Jess S**  
**Chapter 15: Idiots, Graves, More Idiots and Grave News**

"I can't believe I'm agreeing with Snivellus…" Sirius Black shook his head, "but he's right. We _have_ been idiots…"

Snape snorted, "It shouldn't be a new sensation to you, Black."

"Now, now," the Headmaster cut in before the debate could escalate, "none of that." He waited until both had reluctantly returned to their earlier status of ignoring the others existence, before continuing. "Severus does have a point. For whatever reason, whether it was the spell or purely human deficiency, we overlooked a name that we should not have. But I do believe that the spell was that cause of this, it's fading reach seemed to extend long enough to make us overlook her in this regard. We know this, because we connected her to Harry's disappearance twice. The first time, we accused her of kidnapping him. The second time, once the spell snapped, it was pointed out that Harry's sister might be his kidnapper."

The others nodded in thoughtful agreement.

After a moment Alastor Moody spoke up, "It certainly explains how she rose through the Ministry so quickly without obvious recognition from the Wizarding World. Everyone connected to her department, working with it or in similar fields, knows her as Vivien Poiter, but the rest of the world knows next to nothing about her."

"Bloody hell!"

"Arthur!" Mrs. Weasley snapped instinctively as she turned to her husband in shocked outrage.

"S-Sorry, dear," the head of the Weasley family apologized immediately, offering her a sheepish grin, "I-I just realized…s-something. I--"

"What is it, Arthur?" Dumbledore interrupted curiously, watching the younger wizard closely as the redhead turned, his ears almost redder than his hair.

"Umm… do you r-remember when we went to _Vera Hecates_ for lunch a few weeks ago?"

"Yes, it was wonderful," his wife smiled, then stopped, her eyes widening with shock. "Vivian was there…"

"Having lunch with the Malfoys…" Arthur nodded.

"And her never-before-seen-in-the-public-eye younger brother," Moody finished, shaking his head, his scarred face not betraying any of the amusement his tone did.

"Harry Potter…having lunch with Draco Malfoy…and enjoying it…" Professor McGonagall shook her head, "I wouldn't believe it if I hadn't seen it myself."

Sirius shook his head, frowning, "But why would she risk him like that?" he shook his head, "I mean, I know that you rationalized then that she might be investigating Malfoy, seeing if he had anything to do with Harry's disappearance, but…She would have _known_ that he wasn't involved! The investigation was all a fraud anyhow, so--"

"So we don't know why she might have been eating with the Malfoy family, or why she might have brought Harry willingly." Dumbledore cut in, shaking his head. "However, we must keep in mind that Harry Potter's older sister or not, Vivien Poiter is a highly acclaimed Auror, a powerful witch and a very influential ministry officer. Why she would have brought Harry, I don't know, but the congregation may have had nothing to do with Harry himself."

"Yes," Moody agreed, nodding as he looked around at them, his mad-eye acting strangely normal as it focused on each and every one of them at the same time as his regular eye. "Potter is an Auror General, and she certainly deserves the rank. I saw hundreds of Novice and Junior Aurors in my time at the Ministry, but few of them could even begin to compare to her. Those that could, like Willow, were following her example."

"She's a hard, dedicated worker," Arabella offered softly, her dark eyes considering as she turned memories over in her head, "My old colleagues were all in awe of her from the start. According to them, she's always been a 'workaholic'. She's always working, giving everything she has to offer and overcome impossible obstacles…" Suddenly her eyes widened and gasped, "Merlin! I can't believe we didn't see it!"

"What?"

Arabella shook her head, "Vivien Potier was 'raised' and educated by Inés d'Arc and several tutors. When d'Arc died, she willed guardianship to Headmistress Maxime."

"So?" Sirius asked, clearly confused.

But Dumbledore apparently saw what she was talking about. For his eyes had darkened, loosing their almost-ever-present twinkle in order to compensate for the sudden wave of sadness. "Inés d'Arc was a member of the Order, remember?" he pointed out quietly, while Arabella nodded, struggling to hold back tears. "She and Lily were our experts in Ancient Magic and Research."

The other members of the Order were quite clearly mortified by this. Their reactions ranged from paling features, to tears and sobs, to pained trembles. All were pulled into the solid grasp of the grief that this realization brought.

"She died, still performing the last task we set to her... Living that as her own life, while for over a decade we did as we wished, completely free." Mrs. Weasley shook her head, a single tear slipping down one of her cheeks, a cheek that was so obviously more accustom to bearing smiles. "She was never free of it... She died years after the Potters... still serving the Order... And we didn't attend her funeral, or pay her any respects..."

"I do believe it is time we did that," Dumbledore broke the silence that had descended upon them after the redheaded witch's words. He rose to his feet, turning towards the nearby fireplace, the other witches and wizards present only a few steps behind at most. He walked over to the fireplace and opened one of the jars there, taking out a handful of dark blue powder. It wasn't Floo powder, though it was obviously meant for a similar purpose, as he threw it in the fire the same way one would use its cousin, calling out, "_The resting place of Inés d'Arc!_"

The flames rose to the full height the fireplace would allow, before expanding to fill it, then continuing to stretch until a portal the color of an ordinary flames heart; deep, burning blue; lined with silver, lie before them.

Without a moment's hesitation, Dumbledore walked into the portal, the other members of the Order of the Phoenix only a few steps behind as they went to pay their long-over-due respects to a fallen comrade.

* * *

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Harry glanced over at his elder sibling once again; questions relatively clear in his eyes as he watched her gazing into the fire.

"And you don't have to worry about anyone overhearing," she reassured him. "I already checked. All of your housemates are already abed. And McGonagall's long gone."

The Boy-Who-Lived was silent for some time, he didn't even look at his sister, but he didn't have to look to know that she was concerned... How could she be, though? Why should she be? It was his fault...

"Talk to me, Harry," Vivian urged, not turning her gaze away from the flames that burned in the Common Room's hearth, which he'd also been unconsciously watching for the last few minutes. "Don't shut me out, please. We're family..."

At that, he did look at her, searchingly. Meeting her, moving into the Potter Manor and finding out that his real aunt didn't hate him at all, had made this past summer the best one he'd ever had, especially since he knew that there were many more to come.

...But he never talked to anyone about his visions. He always avoided it, ignored the concerned looks of those around him and told what needed to be told, and no more...

Life at number four Privet Drive had made it difficult for Harry to trust anyone at all.

But...

But Vivian was his sister.

Family.

Just like the four unfortunate Muggles whose deaths he'd witnessed a short time before.

And she'd been alone longer then he had...

And she loved him.

Just like that man loved his wife, and his son, and his daughter. Enough to put himself in harms way, and die, for them. Just like the mother that had screamed for her son to come back...

The tears came then; slowly building up in his sad, green eyes, then rolling down his cheeks, which were still too pale. He'd cried before, a few times, certainly.

No one had ever bothered to comfort him before. No one had taken them into their arms, and rubbed his back. No one had ever been there to whisper reassurances...

But Vivian was there now, and that was what she did.

"Shh...shh..." she soothed, rubbing comforting circles on his back while she held him close, almost like she was shielding him from the world and all its perils. "It's all right, little brother... It's over..." and she continued on for some time, Harry didn't know how long and his sister probably didn't either, it was just however long it took him to calm down and relax in her protective embrace. A few minutes after his sobs had died off and he'd almost managed to stop shaking, Vivian pulled away slightly, and then pulled a soft, plain white handkerchief out of one of her many pockets, to dry his tears with.

"Th-there was a f-family..." Harry began still shaking slightly even as his sister gently wiped the drying tears off of his face; he closed his eyes before continuing. "A man...h-he was their f-father..."

"Whose father, Harry?"

"Th-theirs... the t-two little kids... Th-there was a l-little girl, w-with b-blonde hair...and a b-boy...a b-baby boy...H-his mother was c-carrying him..." Harry felt his sister stop using the handkerchief, but didn't open his eyes to see her put it away, though he did feel her shift slightly in order to do so as he continued. "Th-their were g-going back to their ho-hotel when...when..."

"When they met the Death Eaters?"

Harry nodded, shaking violently as he fought back the urge to heave.

Vivian's arms tightened around him slightly, soothingly. "I am sorry you had to see that, Harry... But you must understand, there was nothing you could have done. _Nothing._ It has already happened, and the past cannot be undone, no matter how much we might like to attempt it... Where did this happen?"

"In-in L-London...I think..."

"London is hundreds of miles away from here. And you don't know how to apparate, nor could you -- or anyone else, for that matter -- learn how in a short period of time. You don't know how to make a portkey, either, so you would have no way of getting there in time to help them. Even if you had known about it beforehand, which you did not."

"I-I know..." Harry nodded to show his understanding, "But...I..."

"You can't help but feel guilty, I know. You saw something horrifically terrible, and came out of it with no physical wounds of your own to show, bar for whatever damage your own magic has wreaked on your body."

"Wh-what?"

"The pain you feel during your visions. That's the only thing it could be, in my opinion. Unless Voldemort is capable of magically attacking you through your link, which I don't think he is, otherwise he probably would have already done it. The only other possibility is that your magic is reacting to your guilty subconscious, harming you to ease your torment... Do you have any trouble casting spells after receiving visions? Trouble concentrating?"

"Y-yes...sometimes..."

"That's probably when your magic's exhausted itself to do your subconscious bidding."

"But...why..." Harry frowned, and shook his head. "Why aren't I tired all the time after, after every vision? I'm usually sore...and often sick, but rarely weak like that...magically..."

Vivian laughed, "You've grown complacent, little brother. You're obviously used to thinking of people like Dumbledore and other elders as great wizards and witches, but you are in fact, in your own right, a very powerful wizard by birth. The children of the Potter line always have been. It would take _quite_ a bit of work to exhaust yourself."

"But...I'm not..."

"But you _are_," the Auror General shook her head, a faint smile tracing its way across her lips. "Have you ever had that same kind of difficulty without the visions? In your first and second year did you ever have any trouble summoning the magic for your spell after Ollivander handed you the proper wand?"

"No..." Harry frowned again, trying to think of a time when he hadn't felt his magic flowing through him, ready to be called. "I-I don't think so..." then he shook his head. "Wait... Yes, I did!"

"You did?" Vivian inquired, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes! At the end of first year; after the Sorcerer's Stone. I felt weak and sore for weeks and I could barely manage the simplest spells... all of the Professors didn't mind though, they just told me to keep it up, that it'd come to me..."

Vivian smiled, "That was probably from mother's last spell."

"Huh?"

"The protection she placed around you, the ancient magic. Her magic created the shield around you and probably held it up against the killing curse Voldemort sent at you as a baby, but after that it was probably drawing from your own magic."

"So when I used it against Quirrell...?"

"It drained your magic very quickly. That's why it almost killed you. Raw magic is dangerous for anyone to handle, as it's so intrinsically connect with its casters soul and energy, to their very life. That's why all witches and wizards are trained with wands; they serve as a control to ensure that we don't over reach our selves. And few ever really try to master the Old magicks for the same reason."

"Oh..."

"I am truly sorry you had to see those people die, Harry." Vivian shook her head, "They were right under our noses, the arrogant bastards..."

"What'd you mean?" Harry asked, confused.

The Auror sighed, "The attack took place just outside of downtown London. Our monitors picked up the dark activity, but the teams that were dispatched got there too late to save the father and the baby...the mother's in bad shape, but she'll live, as will the little girl."

"You mean...you knew about the attack?"

"It happened a few hours ago, Harry." His sister replied, nodding to the clock, which read 4:30 A.M. "Around midnight... It looks like you not only see present and future, but past as well..."

"Yeah, I g-guess..." Harry sighed, bringing his hand up to message his still aching forehead, stopping and blinking in confusion when his sister grabbed his wrist, "Wh--?"

"_What_ is _this?_" Vivian demanded in an oddly impassive voice, her face just as void of emotion.

It was then that Harry realized which hand he'd raised; his right hand, the one he wrote with.

"It-it's nothing..." he tried, stopping when he saw her gaze harden. He sighed, and shook his head. "It's from detention..."

"...With Umbridge?"

"Yes..." he replied, trying to gage her reaction. But her face was completely masked and he couldn't read anything in her eyes.

After a few moments her expression softened somewhat, and pulled another blanket off of the chair nearest to them, quickly settling it over him. "You should get some sleep now, Harry. Unless you want Madam Pomfrey to hold you in the Hospital Wing all day?"

Harry yawned, "Not really, no, but..."

"Don't worry, you're quite safe here." She assured him, before pulling another potion's vial out of her robes, uncorking it before holding it out to him. "This will help you get to sleep."

Without a moment's he accepted the vial and brought it up to his mouth taking in the contents in two swift gulps. Almost immediately he felt a wave of calmness spread through his body, warming his limbs, and he felt his eyelids grow heavy. "'Night, Vivi..."

"Goodnight, Harry," the General smiled at the childhood nickname, watching carefully as he fell into a deep slumber. A few moment's later, she nodded, rising to her feet with a sigh, before drawing her wand and waiving it around, muttering various spells to take care of the mess around them. "Eric?"

"Yes, General?" the other Auror inquired as he appeared a few feet away from her.

"I assume Ria explained everything to you all ready?"

The blonde nodded, smiling faintly. "That your mysterious little brother happens to be the most famous wizard of his generation, if not all generations? She told me that, yes."

Vivian returned the smile softly, a hint of amusement in her deep green eyes. "I suppose that's one way of putting it... You will continue to watch over him?"

"Of course, General. I'll guard him with my life, if the need should arise." He assured, and she knew he wasn't joking.

She shook her head, still smiling softly. "Thank you."

The Captain shrugged, "Hey, it'd be a chance to repay some of the life-debts I owe you."

"You owe me nothing, Eric."

"I'd hardly call my life nothing, General. Though others might disagree, I'm sure." He shook his head and went on before she could reply. "I'll look after him. It's my current assignment after all. This just makes it more important then usual." After a moment he shook his head and nodded towards the sleeping teen. "What about the _incidi_?"

The General's face instantly hardened, as a deep frown quickly took the place of the half-smile that had graced her lips only moments before. "That's really all it could be... And if Umbridge really _is_ using an _incidi plectri_, then she must be brought to justice. There's no way Fudge can justify that."

Bonham shook his head, "What about the defensive conventions?"

"She's _not_ an Auror. She's not an enforcer of any kind. She's just psychotic secretary playing the part of a mystery writer's version of one; and a corrupt one at that."

"Those are usually more popular."

"Unfortunately." Vivian sighed, shaking her head. She spared another quick glance in her brother's direction, pleased to see him sleeping peacefully, and quickly bent over to readjust the blanket that had slip a little. She then raised her wand, explaining the reason over her shoulder before she began chanting. "I'm going to place a few wards around him, notice-me-nots and silencers, so that he'll be left alone until he's ready to wake." With that she finished the spells with a few quick flicks of her wrist, before returning her wand to its holder. She turned back to the Captain; "You'll remove them when he wakes?"

He nodded, "You might want to throw a dream-catcher in there, too."

"Good idea..." she nodded, turning back and drawing her wand to add the final touch. She re-sheathed it in her sleeve easily, before turning and making her way over to the exit. "Good day, to you, Eric. I do hope the rest of your shift goes well."

"And I hope you manage to get some sleep soon, General."

Her amused chuckle echoed in through the portrait hole from the hallway even as said portrait slid shut.

* * *

The family gravesite on the Potter Estate was as regal as any other part of the property. Majestic mausoleums of differing kinds of stone rose up from the ground where ancestors were buried, each bearing a name, dates and commemorations.

Not all the family members were buried here, of course. In a family such as this once, which seemed to have a tradition for producing heroes every few generations, if not more often. Therefore, some of the tombs were left empty. They were still marked and honored, even though the person they stood for rested many hundreds of miles away in one of the gravesites for wizarding heroes.

The plentiful magical torches that lined the walls around the graves were always lit. Because the flame was magical there was no danger of it starting a fire, and the warm, golden light they provided often served to sooth the aching hearts of those who visited the departed here.

Although, it was fairly rare for someone to come by any way other then the front gate; the only physical entrance to the cemetery, but this was part of the wizarding world; so it would be foolish to be surprised. Even if you were standing near the grave that the silver-lined, blue flames bloomed in front of, before blooming and allowing several people to walk through.

And so the Order of the Phoenix came to stand in front of the tomb of one of their newly remembered, departed comrades. They took in the graveyard somewhat morosely, looking around for any sign of other visitors.

After a moment, Sirius spoke up, "This is the Potter Family Cemetery..."

"It is?" Molly Weasley inquired softly, looking around at the other graves more closely, while other Order members did the same. And indeed, most of the graves bore the name Potter. The only exception she could see was the one they were standing in front of.

**

* * *

**

INES D'ARC

**1906-1984**

**Courageous soldier**

**Consummate mentor**

**Loving friend

* * *

**

"Very appropriate..." Professor McGonagall offered after a moment's silence.

Dumbledore and the others all nodded or gave an analogous indication of concurrence, "Indeed..." Then he raised his wand, pointing it at the headstone, muttering charms under his breath before waving his magical conduit.

An explosion of red and gold magic shot out of the tip in the form of the fiery phoenix, which shot over to the tombstone before exploding in an array of lights upon impact. When the light show had ended, a red and golden emblem; a phoenix rising triumphantly from the flames, had appeared in the upper right hand corner.

That done, Hogwarts' Headmaster flicked his wand again, conjuring a flower, a single, yellow-tinged white rose dropped down before the stone, to be joined by similar tokens the other Order members had conjured, before following the Headmaster in also raising their wands before themselves and bowing respectfully.

As they were turning to leave, Tonk's confused, but nonetheless quiet, call stopped them. "Wait..." The other Order Members turned to look at her.

"What is it, Nymphadora?" Dumbledore asked, even as his eyes followed hers to a pair of regal tombstones a short distance away.

"I thought the Potters, Lily and James at least, were buried in London? In the _National_ _Heroes_ _Cemetery_? If the Ministry knew about this place they probably would have been buried here, but..."

"Yes, they were buried in London." Remus nodded, walking over towards the regal marble markers that had caught their attention. "I was there."

"Are we sure they were there... they were A.K. victims, so their funerals would have been closed casket, right?"

"They were." Dumbledore confirmed, while several others nodded. "But Ms. Potter was only a child at the time, she didn't have the influence then that she does now. And the members of the Order that were guarding her would not be willing to risk it, I'm sure."

McGonagall and several others nodded, "Not with so many Death Eaters still on the loose." She sighed, "So these must just be honorary markers? Where they should have been buried?"

"And where their daughter might be able to pay her respects and find some sense of closure..." Dumbledore replied sadly. When the others looked at him again he sighed and shook his head. "The spell was very powerful then. It wouldn't have allowed her anywhere near her parent's funeral or graves for some years to come..."

Moody nodded in agreement, "Too much risk of exposure."

"So this would be a sign of respect for Lily and James," Remus nodded, "and a chance for Vivian...and the other Order Members, I presume, to pay their respects?"

"Undoubtedly..."

After several moments of respectful silence Tonks spoke again. "I like these ones more."

Everyone looked at her again as McGonagall asked, "I beg your pardon?"

"I've just always found the graves in _N.H.C._ really rather gaudy, and since they had no relations to intervene..." Tonks shrugged. "I just thinks this is more regal; elegant...peaceful..."

"And respectful." Dumbledore agreed.

"And it receives the important visitors." Moody nodded to the base of the tombstones, where fifteen pairs of enchantedly eternal pink roses rested.

"One for each parent, for each year." McGonagall nodded, then shook her head. "The poor child..."

"Shouldn't we tell her?" Sirius demanded looking towards the Manor's Mansion, which was a good half-mile away from the family burial ground.

McGonagall sighed, "She's probably still at school...with Harry..."

"Whether she is or not doesn't matter, I've no doubt she's very busy and is probably in need of sleep as much as we are." Dumbledore decreed, "Therefore, we shall have to postpone our talk for another time... I will invite her to dine in the staff lounge tomorrow night, if it is convenient for her. Then we shall see."

"But—"

Remus cut his old friend off, "We all want to really see her, Padfoot. But we don't want to hurt her... it's better this way."

Dumbledore nodded in agreement as he flicked his wand to reopen the temporary portal back to his office, which had been hovering nearby waiting for his call. "Let us hope so..."

* * *

Vivian smiled as she entered her office to find all but one of her 'secretaries' and their seconds present. She had expected it, as she called these meetings rarely enough that it would not do for anyone to be late, so anyone who was supposed to be there showed up early. "Good evening, everyone. Thank you for coming."

Several "good evenings" and few "it's hardly evenings" echoed around the room and response as everyone followed her lead and took their customary seats before her desk as she took the one behind it.

"Now, as there are more many reasons I've called you all here, and as you happen to be among the Wizarding World's best and brightest, I'm sure all of you know at least one of the reasons, most of you probably know more, and some may have at least guessed at all of them..." Vivian smiled gently, before sighing and shaking her head. "It's been an interesting summer, no?"

Several Aurors nodded, while one, Captain Vindictus spoke up. "Yes it has...particularly the parts concerning your brother."

Vivian offered a small smirk, nodding in agreement at the Slytherin alumni's evaluation. "Yes, Janna. My brother's part in all of this is rather complicated, and did require at least some intrigue..." She looked around the room to see that while all of her direct assistants were either hiding their confusion or not confused at all, some of their seconds were. "For those of you that have not already guessed, my name, by birth was not exactly Vivien Potier. I was born Vivian Potter, here in England. Harry Potter is my brother, and his supposed kidnapping was a necessary rouse to ensure his continuing safety."

"Not quite necessary," General Dearborn corrected, shaking her head lightly. "But certainly preferable."

"Yes," the eldest Potter agreed, with a sigh. "I had intended to simply check in on my only living blood relations, and introduce myself to Harry for the first time that he is likely to remember with any clarity. However, when they asked to come with me it seemed like a much safer course of action then placing a guard on their house, as the initial reason for their visit was the presence of a dark practitioner."

"A Death Eater." Vindicutus clarified.

Vivian nodded again. "Yes... for what it is worth I apologize for wasting all of your time with the investigation, but—"

"Until the Wizarding World remembered your true identity's existence as the elder Potter child, you could not explain your taking him to live with you," Master Sergeant Volkov cut in with a nod. "We understand, General. And what's more, all of us owe you too much, towards our own lives and well-being and the continuing well-being of those we love to question this. You believed it to be necessary. It was necessary. We accept this."

Vivian looked around the room, smiling slightly when she received several firm nods in return. "Very well...thank you." She looked down at her desk for a moment and sighed before shaking her head and looking back towards them again. "Now, onto business... As some of you undoubtedly already know, there was a confirmed Death Eater attack yesterday evening, in London, around nine o'clock. They wore the customary robes, masks, and attitudes, and left an innocent American Muggle man and his infant son dead. His wife and eight-year-old daughter survived," she nodded to Vindictus and Lufkin, "thanks to the timely arrival of one of Major Lufkin's units and several of Captain Vindictus's soldiers, who thankfully brought a pair of healers with them." She sighed, shaking her head. "How are they, Janna? I haven't had a chance to ask after them."

Vindictus shook her head, dark hair swinging back and forth with the movement. "Still in shock... I should point out that we don't really have any proof that they were Death Eaters. They apparated out as soon as they heard our soldiers arrive, and they were too far away to confirm. So—"

"Some of you may have noted that although Rita Skeeter has a penchant for stretching the truth as far as she possibly can," Vivian cut in with a smile, "She rarely lies, and there is always at least some foundation of truth to her stories... The ones she wrote concerning my brother's link to the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters through his scar were true enough. And Harry witnessed the entire attack in his visions, which I'm sure he will be willing to submit to a review by penseive for us."

"So Fudge will have no choice but to admit that Voldemort has returned," Vindictus nodded, apparently quite satisfied with the notion. "Good."

Vivian smirked again, "He already has. He has also agreed to reevaluate Umbridge's ability to teach Defense at Hogwarts. And all of the Hogwarts Inquistorial details will be turned over to us."

"How in Merlin's name did you manage all that?"

Vivian and Colonel Vasser exchanged smirks, before the Frenchman spoke up. "Monsieur Fudge had the audacity to command her presence, and when she didn't come he and his less than intelligent and even less modest guards showed up at Headquarters." He glanced at his commanding officer and shook his head, "You know they were there for over an hour before you arrived."

"I pity you." Vivian offered a hearth felt gin. "How much trouble did they cause?"

The Colonel shrugged, "They behaved better after the lovely Captain had a few words with them... I wasn't able to hear what they said. But I think that might have been why they tried to stuff themselves us when you arrived."

"To regain face?" Vivian wasn't the only one grinning now as she raised an eyebrow and met Captain Vindictus's steady gaze. "What did you say to them, Janna?"

"Oh, nothing much," Vindictus shrugged, although she was smirking. "I just asked them a few questions...wondered why they weren't working in our department."

"Because they're idiots!" Sergeant Volkoc scoffed, shaking his head.

"And they admitted to as much," the former Slytherin's smirk was even more pronounced, "...eventually."

After a moment of stunned silence everyone burst out laughing.

Colonel Vasser shook his head, "You know, if you weren't one of my subordinates and I wasn't already married I might ask you to marry me."

Vindictus raised an eyebrow at him, "And if you weren't one of my commanding officers and already married I'd still say no."

"Ye—Hey!" Vasser glared at her, while everyone else laughed again.

Vivian was smiling again as she cut in, "I will be paying the Minister a surprise visit in the morning. Janna, Eileen, I hope you will be able to attend?"

"Of course," Major Lufkin replied while Captain Vindictus just nodded, still smirking at the glowering Colonel Vasser.

"Good," Vivian smiled. "I will be leaving the Inquistorial details in your hands. I believe you have enough mastery's between you to adequately judge the Professor's teaching abilities. Try not to show to much favoritism—"

"Or the opposite, I presume?" Vindictus cut in, to receive a confirming nod.

"Yes, I want Umbridge out of the school as soon as possible. But try to handle it...impartially, or at least with the appearance of impartiality."

"Has she done anything yet?"

"Pardon?" Vivian met Vindictus' gaze again.

"That woman defines the muggle term 'wickid witch,' General. And she's had several classes already. She must have done _something_ by now."

Vivian was quiet for several moments before she nodded. "Yes, as Ria can attest to witnessing the act itself and Captain Bonham and myself can confirm the wounds, she forced Harry to write lines with an _incidi plectri_ for nearly an hour—"

"_What!_" came from several mouths around the room, while others remained silent, their faces grave.

General Dearborn, who's eldest daughter had become a Gryffindor only the year before, shook her head. "That is a registered dark item. It has been since it was first created during the war with Grindelwald."

"I know," Vivian nodded. "And as soon as Madam Pomphrey sees it in the morning – which she will. Harry's agreed to have breakfast in the infirmary, so she can run a check up after his vision last night. As soon as we have her confirmation on the injury I will—"

"You can't arrest her," Vindictus cut in, and continued before Vivian could object not flinching under her glare. "You're too close. It's too personal."

"I'll arrest her," Dearborn volunteered. "I'll be waiting General Willow's call."

Vivian sighed, "Very well..."

Harry sighed, shaking his head as he searched through the Daily Prophet under Madam Pomphrey's attentive gaze. Nothing. No mention of the attack whatsoever. "How could they not cover it?" he asked, frowning as he met the nurse's concerned gaze.

Before the nurse could speak, however, someone else did. "They will, Mr. Potter. Don't you worry about that."

Both turned to see a witch old enough to have children attending the school as students enter the Healers Ward. Both noted the elegant uniform she wore and the stars that marked her high rank.

"I'm General Catherine Dearborn," the witch bowed, her perfect blonde braids staying behind her head as she bowed slightly. "General Potier has entrusted me with your case."

"Case?" Madam Pomphrey asked, frowning.

"Yes," the Auror raised an eyebrow at the nurse. "Did you really think we'd overlook the use _incidi plectri _within the school?"

Harry glanced down at his right hand, which Madam Pomphrey had been frowning over the entire time she rubbed salves onto it and wrapped it in bandages. "During detention, you mean?"

"Yes," the General nodded, "Your shadow filed an official complaint on it this morning, though General Potier noticed it when she visited you last night."

Harry looked down guiltily, "Yeah, she did..."

"It's nothing to be ashamed of, young man. You did absolutely nothing wrong."

Harry looked up, still frowning, but after a few moments of silence nodded, meeting the General's gaze. "What'd you going to do to her?"

"Why, I'm going to arrest her, of course..." Dearborn smirked, "right after my colleague and I make her recognize at least some of her own idiocy."

* * *

"I'm sorry, General—"

Vivian didn't know how, but somehow Fudge had found another secretary to fill in for Umbridge that annoyed her just as much as the one that was now the Defense Professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft of Wizardry, and would soon be just another convict.

"But Minister Fudge is quite busy this morning... If you could make an appointment—"

"I did, and you're holding the confirmation notice I received." Vivian cut in, holding the older witch's gaze steadily until the other looked away.

"Yes, well, there must have been a misunderstanding with one of the nightshift clerks. And some importan—"

The Auror General snorted, "I'm sure whatever meeting he's holding right now is nowhere near important enough to reschedule mine. Who is he meeting with?"

"Many important pe—"

"_Who?_"

"Uh...um... Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Macnair are there... and some reporters from the Prophet, an—"

"And no one who's responsible for the nation's safety." Vivian spun on her heel and walked through the door to the Minister's outer office towards the guarded inner door, Colonel Vasser, Major Lufkin, Captain Vindictus and Master Seargen Volkov right behind her.

"Wait! You can't go in there! The Minister—"

"Agreed to see me." She informed the two guards outside his office, who happened to be the ones that had refused her admittance to her own office not too long before. "Move."

"General—"

Vivian didn't even bother saying the word, just raised her wand and sent a torrent of red light at both guards, throwing them back against the door before immediately dropping them to the floor, while Vindictus quickly summoned their wands and slipped them into her pocket. Then she waived her wand at the doors themselves, forcing them to swing open. As she strode into the inner office Vasser followed her while Lufkin, Vindictus and Volkov stood guard outside the door, waiting for the Aurors that the secretary had undoubtedly called.

"Good morning, Minister." Vivian greeted the wizard; nodding to the people he was meeting with, most of whom stood when she entered. "I apologize for the interruption, but you seem to have forgotten our appointment."

"A-Appointment?" Fudge shook his head, looking decidedly confused. "I don't believe—"

"I scheduled one when you visited my office, don't you remember, Minister?" Vivian inquired, smiling for his guests, specifically the reporters and photographers that would undoubtedly consider writing something about the Minister forgetting meetings with important Ministry officials, and perhaps more.

Fudge seemed to realize that this was a possibility too, for he quickly replied, while shaking his head. "Yes! Yes! I apologize. I thought you meant a great deal later... we didn't really agree on a time."

"I believe I said first thing," Vivian shrugged, still smiling for the reporters, "But I could be mistaken... you might want to tell your guards to just ask next time. It will keep medical expenses lower."

"My guards? I'm sorry, what—?"

"They're only stunned and disarmed. Some of my officers will be filling in for them until suitable replacements arrive... But I digress." She smiled winningly for the guests again, "For those of you who do not know me, I am known Auror General Vivien Potier, five stars and Order of Merlin First Class. I'm in charge of the First Sector of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. And I hope you don't mind the interruption, this should only take a few more minutes of the Minister's time."

"Uh – yes," Fudge agreed, standing to make his way around the desk as he waived towards the door, "Perhaps we could—?"

"Oh, no, please sit down. All of you." Vivian smiled, "We aren't after all discussing National Secrets, Minister. Or we shouldn't be."

"But—"

"I just need you to sign the final papers for the Inquisitorial Squad's formation and duties." She tossed the papers in the air and waived her wand to bring them all safely, and neatly to the Minister's desk before she re-sheathed it. As he hurriedly sat down and grabbed a nearby quill, Vivian continued, again talking to the guests. "The Inquisitorial Squad will be made up of several masters of different fields, sent to Hogwarts to review the teaching staff and ensuring that the students are receiving an adequate education, or better, we hope. We've had some trouble, with new Auror's, at least, being less than fully educated over the last few years. Hopefully this will curb that problem."

"Yes," Fudge agreed hurriedly, signing all of the papers as quickly as he possibly could. He also, obviously wasn't reading the documents. He quickly tapped each with his wand to dry the ink, before gathering them into a neat pile again and holding them out to her. "Is there anything el—"

Vivian quickly cut in again, "Yes. I'm afraid there is." She was intentionally quiet for a moment, which obviously made the Minister nervous. "What direction and limitations was Ms. Umbridge given about her appointment at Hogwarts?"

"What?"

"Was she permitted to use tools that have been marked dark objects and illegal for nearly half a century to punish students who displeased her?"

"Wha--? No!" Fudge sputtered, shaking his head. "No, of course not. Why?"

"Good. Then Captain Vindictus," she nodded to the Captain who was already on her way out. "Will meet with General Dearborn at Hogwarts to arrest her." Vivian quickly went forwards to collect the papers he'd signed and smiled at the guests again, "Good day, Minister. Ladies and gentlemen." Then she turned on her heal to leave, the other Aurors right behind her.

"Wait! What did she do?" One of the reporters call.

"Even with reason, the use of an _incidi plectri_ is illegal. And forcing a minor to write lines with it will earn her at least a few years in prison."

* * *

The Great Hall was filled with the quiet chatter that generally accompanied breakfast. Though the Gryffindor table was a little more quiet than usual, several members frequently glancing towards the doors, waiting for their missing housemate to arrive.

"You think he's all right, right, Ron?" Hermione asked worriedly, glancing towards the doors again before she looked back at her other best friend.

"I don' know, 'Mione." Ron shook his head, "I hope s—"

He was interrupted by the sound of both of the Great Hall's doors swinging open, to admit to witches in formal Auror robes. One of which several of the Gryffindor's recognize, though one of the second years apparently knew the other quite well, as she was frowning at the oldest Auror.

"Isn't that Captain Vindictus?" Ron asked.

Hermione nodded, even as all of them turned their attention towards the teacher's table, where the professors were watching the two Aurors approach.

"Ah," Dumbledore smiled, holding his arms out slightly in welcome, and bowing slightly. "Captain Vindictus, a pleasure to see you again... And Mrs. Dearborn, I believe?"

"General Dearborn," the older Auror nodded, "yes."

"General, Captain," Dumbledore nodded, still smilingly slightly. "Welcome to Hogwarts. What may we do for you?"

"The Minister believes that Ministry officials should formally review your staff here, for their abilities as teachers and experts in their field." Dearborn handed him a scroll, which he quickly unrolled and began reading through. After several moments he nodded, but he was frowning slight. "Captain Vindictus and I will be serving in this capacity for the time being."

"Hem, hem," A quiet cough from a short distance away drew their attention, though many students rolled their eyes. "Excuse me, General."

"Yes, Mrs. Umbridge?"

"It's Miss, thank you, or Professor. I'm not married." If she heard Lee Jordan's snickered comment of, 'no kidding, who'd marry _her?_' she gave no indication of it. "May we speak out—"

"No. But you may of course speak here, if you wish."

"Yes, hem, hem," Umbridge nodding, beginning to glare at the Aurors. "You see I have discussed the idea with the Minister and we believe a High Inquisitor—"

"In order for that to work we would have to find someone with a mastery in every field taught at Hogwarts, Ms. Umbridge." The General told her, shaking her head. "And if such a person exists, they may not be willing to serve. Therefore having a Squad of several people with mastery's in different field makes a great deal more sense."

Umbridge was obviously ignoring the nods from the other teachers at the table. "Hem, hem, yes, but I volunteered, an—"

"You do not have a Masters Degree in any field, Ms. Umbridge." Dearborn pointed out, with a raised eyebrow. "You are a secretary. And as you're posing as a Professor yourself you could hardly evaluate yourself. And you're not likely to be impartial. There's a conflict of interests, you see."

"Yes, indeed," Dumbledore agreed, his eyes twinkling. "We're happy to oblige you, ladies. Is there anything else?"

"Unfortunately, yes," Dearborn nodded, turning towards Umbridge. "And I believe we should step outside for this, Ms. Umbridge."

"Hem, hem, why, may I ask?" Umbridge more demanded then asked, glaring at the general, before jumping slightly in her seat as she noticed that the other Auror, Captain Vindictus, had at some point come around behind her.

"Or not," Dearborn shrugged, raising her wand to point it as the other witch, muttering a spell that sent a wave of golden light at her. She immediately began to glow a bright green. "You are now under an honesty monitoring spell, which will continue to glow green as you speak truthfully, and switch to pink or red if you lie. You may choose not to answer."

"What is—"

"Now, do you own an _incidi plectri_?" The General demanded, gaining several shocked looks from the other professors and some of the older students.

"N-no, of course not." Umbridge stammered, still glowing green.

Dearborn frowned. "Have you owned an _incidi plectri_?"

"No!" She was still green.

"Do you know someone who does own a _incidi plectri_?"

"...No." Now she turned pink.

"Careful, Ms. Umbridge. Juries and judges don't like dishonestly." Dearborn warned her. "Have you forced a student to write with one?"

Even as Umbridge was protesting, glowing a bright pink, several of the older students and the teachers were looking pale or green, most completely aghast.

Dearborn was silent for a moment, before she nodded to Vindictus. "Please rise, Ms. Umbridge."

"_No!_"

"Delores Jane Umbridge, you are under arrest for use of an illegal, dark object and abuse of a minor. You have the right to remain silent, anything you say or do many be used against you in a Court of Law—"

Umbridge flew to her feet, trying to push pack Captain Vindictus, who side stepped her. "_NO!_ You can't! I'm—" she was cut off by a waive of red light from the captain's wand.

After several moments of silence, during which Vindictus levitated the accused from the room, Dearborn sighed, shaking her head as she turned back to the Headmaster. "We'll be in touch about the evaluations soon. And someone will be over, with documentation of course, later today, to fill in for the Defense class until a suitable replacement can be found." She bowed slightly, "We apologize for the interruption. Good day."

"And to you," Dumbledore nodded, smiling as the doors to the Great Hall swung shut behind the general and the morning chatter returned much louder than before, with cheers. Though none of the Professors seemed to mind.

_

* * *

End of Chapter 15._

* * *

Translations:

Consanguina - related by blood (Latin)

Incidi - to cut into; to inscribe, engrave an inscription; to make by cutting

Plectri - a quill

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Direct Response to Reviewers ****– Is no longer allowed, therefore I will try to respond directly when you review...but the current ones are bit out of date, aren't they?**

**To everyone who did review, thank you. And sorry for leaving you hanging.**

**I would also like to add that no reviews would probably mean another two years before the next update. Reviews keep ME interested. So if you do want me to stay interested and keep updated, review. I will try to respond. I will try to keep writing. But I do need some help, considering how long it's been since I really tried to keep going with this story.**

**AN: Sorry for the LONG wait. I kind of lost interest in the story... Hopefully I'll be able to update much sooner this time.**

**However, Finals are coming up and I leave for Greece not too long after that. So I don't know when I'll be able to update. Probably not any sooner than late June or early July.**

**To those who asked, yes, I love being an aunt. My niece turned two just a little while ago. She can be a handful when I do get to see her, but it's still great. And everyone, of course, loves her.**

**And, of course, I am glad everyone likes the story so far... though if anyone who was reading it before came back, I might be amazed.**

**To those who noticed it, yes, I was sticking more to the (American) Miranda Rights then anything else, because I really don't know how it works in Great Britain. If someone wants to explain it to me, preferably with sources, I might be willing to change it. But I honestly didn't think it was that important...**

**Thanks for reading!**

**Bye (for now)! **

**Jess S**


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